


Tales from Pete's World 12 - Xenogenesis

by SciFiFanForever



Series: Tales from Pete's World [12]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-10-17 22:22:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 92,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17569034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SciFiFanForever/pseuds/SciFiFanForever
Summary: The Metacrisis Doctor, John Smith and his family are about to embark on a cruise of a lifetime with his in-laws. Three days before they are due to set sail, an incident occurs in a quiet sleepy village which threatens to ruin their travel plans.





	1. Memories At A Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on a novel by John Windham written in 1957. It’s quite dated when you read it, but it is still a good read and has a quintessential “Englishness” about it. (Title at the end for those who haven’t guessed) Two films have been made based on the book. I’ve seen the original black and white film, and it made an impression on a young child. The novel was set over a 9 year period, so I’ve brought it up to date with 21st century technology, and a Torchwood makeover. 
> 
> All Dr Who characters are the property of the BBC, and all the village characters are the property of John Windham.  
> References to events in some of the BBC novels are used in this story.
> 
> An explanation. (You can ignore this and get on with reading the story if you want to.) I have been working on this story for over a year now. The main story chapters were written, and then it ground to a halt. I couldn’t get it to go anywhere, and it didn’t take on a life of its own like other stories did. I mixed in an idea about being at the beginning of space colonisation, rather than the usual sci fi idea that it had happened years ago and everyone was used to it. The story still didn’t take off. I would keep coming back to it and re-reading, and then recently, I had the idea of introducing a new character. Suddenly the story took off and flew, and here it is.

****

 

**Chapter 1**

 

**Memories At A Dinner**

 

**The European Space Research and Technology Centre.**

**Noordwijk, The Netherlands.**

**Saturday 25th July 2026.**

 

Pete and Jackie Tyler, along with  their daughter Rose and son-in-law Doctor John Smith, were just finishing their meal in the conference hall of the European Space Research and Technology Centre. They had been invited to the banquette along with the other members of the International Space Consortium and members of the press to announce the completion of the Lunar Conveyor project.

 

Pete and John were wearing their dinner suits with black bow ties, whilst Rose wore a simple yet elegant little black dress. Jackie on the other hand, wore a typical “Jackie Tyler” outfit which was tight, sparkly and showed her ample cleavage. Rose had renamed John’s “dinner suit of doom” to the “dinner suit of desire”, as she thought he looked SO sexy when he wore it.

 

The room was full of politicians, scientists, engineers, businessmen, entrepreneurs, and journalists from all over the world. A man in his late sixties, walked up the few steps and stood at the podium on the stage.

 

‘Ladies and gentlemen, fellow colleagues, and members of the press. Thank you for coming this evening,’ he said with a German accent. ‘For those of you who do not know me, I am Johann-Dietrich Wörner, Director General of the European Space Agency here at Noordwijk. We have brought you all together tonight to say thank you to all the governments, space agencies, and businesses that have shared a vision, shared a purpose, and shared a common goal of establishing a permanent colony on the Moon.’ There was a ripple of applause from the audience.

 

‘Tonight I can inform you that construction of the colony base is nearing completion, and colonists should be departing in the next few weeks.’ There was another, louder round of applause. ‘I will now ask Robert M. Lightfoot Junior, the Administrator of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, to come to the stage.’

 

There was a round of applause as a man in his fifties stepped lightly up the steps and shook hands with Wörner. He had a wide, friendly smile on his face as he stood at the podium.

 

‘Good evening. As Professor Wörner said, we are here because we shared a vision. What some of you might not realise though, is that vision belonged to one man. The physicist and space activist, Gerard O’Neill. In 1974, he chaired a conference on space colonisation at Princetown University, and after the success of that conference, a year later he organised the much larger conference on Space Manufacturing, which had two dozen speakers. At this conference he proposed the idea for mass drivers, powerful electromagnets which would throw baseball-sized chunks of ore mined from the surface of the Moon into space. Once in space, the ore could be used as raw material for building space colonies and solar power satellites,’ Lightfoot explained.

 

‘In June of 1975, he then led a ten-week study of permanent space habitats at NASA Ames. During the study he was called away to testify in July to the House Subcommittee on Space Science and Applications. In January of the following year, he also appeared before the Senate Subcommittee on Aerospace Technology and National Needs. In a presentation titled “Solar Power from Satellites”, he laid out his case for an Apollo-style program for building power plants in space. He returned to Ames in June to lead studies on space manufacturing. In these studies, NASA developed detailed plans to establish bases on the Moon where space-suited workers would mine the mineral resources needed to build space colonies and solar power satellites.’

 

He paused and looked around the auditorium. ‘Up to now, we’ve had the single, international research base in Peary crater, which was adapted from the experience of the Antarctic research bases; supplied every six months by a very large rocket. From today however, we have a new, low cost transport system which will make round trips to the Moon every five days. To explain how this was made possible, I’d like to invite Pete Tyler to the stage.’

 

‘Go on Dad,’ Rose said as she started the applause.

 

Pete stood, kissed his wife and made his way to the podium.

 

‘Hi there,’ Pete said into the microphone, giving them his trademark cheeky smile and thumbs up. ‘Now, Professor Wörner said we were here because we shared a vision. I don’t know about you, but I’m here for the food.’

 

There was laughter and cheers of agreement as Pete grinned at the audience. ‘Only kidding, although it was a magnificent dinner. No, I’m here because I happened to be in the right place at the right time. The right time was the 5th of May 2014, and the right place was Reaction Engines Limited, in an unassuming little industrial unit in Oxfordshire . . .’

 

‘Oh, I remember that day,’ Rose said to John. ‘We’d just got engaged.’ They shared their memories of that visit telepathically.

 

**Culham Science Centre.**

**Oxfordshire, England.**

**5th May, 2014.**

 

Pete Tyler, Doctor John Smith, and his new fiance Rose Tyler, walked towards the industrial unit of Reaction Engines Limited, a small company with big ambitions. Other people were also approaching the building, some who Pete recognised as government officials, and some who John knew were engineers and scientists from the European Space Agency.

Pete Tyler was there not as the director of the Torchwood Institute, but as an executive director of Cybus Industries. John was there as the scientific advisor to the government.

 

The founder of the company, Alan Bond walked towards the group and greeted them, thanking them for coming to the test run of the prototype Synergistic Air-Breathing Rocket Engine, or SABRE for short. Although he was seventy years old, he still had a youthful enthusiasm for innovative engineering. He was wearing a charcoal grey suit with a striped tie, and wore wire rimmed glasses which framed his intelligent eyes. His mouth had an upward cast at the edges, ready to break into a smile.

 

‘Mister Tyler,’ Bond said, shaking Pete’s hand enthusiastically. ‘It’s so good to meet you at last.’ He then shook John’s hand.  ‘Doctor Smith, it’s such an honour to meet you.’

 

‘Is it?’ John said cheekily. ‘Yes. I suppose it must be.’

 

Rose stifled a laugh and nudged him in the ribs to behave.

 

Bond looked baffled. ‘Er, yes. Right.’ He turned to Rose. ‘And  Miss Tyler. I saw the announcement of your engagement in the media. Congratulations.’

 

‘Oh, thank you. And it’s Rose,’ she replied shaking his hand.

 

He smiled at her and then turned to greet the other guests. When he’d finished, he addressed the group. ‘So. If we are all ready, We’ll start the test.’

 

He led the group through to the test facility at the rear of the building, where an ordinary looking jet engine with a red rimmed nozzle at the back. They went into the control room, where engineers and technicians were seated at control desks. A large window looked out over the test bed.

 

‘An’ this is the future then?’ Rose whispered to her fiancé, as she looked out of the window.

 

John looked like all his Christmases had come at once, and gave her an open mouthed smile. ‘Oh Yes! The designed thrust-to-weight ratio of SABRE is three times that of a conventional jet engine. Oh, and six times that of a scramjet.’

 

‘And that’s good is it?’ Rose asked.

 

‘No. It’s not good, it’s brilliant. The combination of high fuel efficiency and low-mass engines permits a single stage to orbit approach, with air-breathing to over Mach five at seventeen miles altitude, and with the vehicle reaching orbit with more payload mass per take-off mass than just about any non-nuclear launch vehicle ever proposed,’ John said enthusiastically.

 

‘What. So it’s like havin’ the space shuttle without the big tank and solid rocket boosters?’ Rose asked, hoping she’d understood the concept.

 

‘Precisely,’ John agreed.

 

Outside the window, the engine started a high pitched whine, and a fog of supercooled oxygen vapour vented out of a tank. John was literally  giggling with excitement. There was a “whoosh”, and an orange flame flew out of the exhaust. After a few seconds, the flame turned an incandescent blue and the engine strained against the test bed. After a few minutes, the exhaust reverted to an orange flame and went out with a “pop”.

 

Everyone applauded the successful firing of the SABRE. John went over to one of the workstations, took out his brainy specs and leaned over the technician.

 

‘Can I?’ he asked, pointing at the screen.

 

Bond had come over to join him. ‘I was hoping you would,’ he told John. ‘Would you run the test data for Doctor Smith please.’

 

John looked intently at the screen as the data scrolled down. He raised his eyebrows and nodded his head. He straightened up, grinned at Bond, and walked over to Pete. He took Pete by the elbow and led him to a corner.

 

‘Well? What do you think?’ Pete asked him.

 

‘I think mankind's journey to the stars starts here, today,’ John said seriously. ‘And Cybus Industries could lead the way.’

 

‘That’s good enough for me,’ Pete told him. ‘I’ll recommend it to the board when we get back . . .’

 

John and Rose came out of their memories as Pete was winding up his story. ‘. . . Once Cybus Industries and Vitex had signed up to support the development of SABRE, and a space plane to put it in, other companies followed suit.’

 

Pete looked around the auditorium. ‘Alan should be in tonight. Where are you Alan?’ Alan Bond stood and gave a little embarrassed wave as everyone applauded. ‘You’ll be hearing from Alan later about his engine design. First though, we are going to hear from someone who knows what it’s like to live on the Moon, and why we need this lunar colony. Please welcome former Peary Base commander, Pavel Vinogradov to the stage.’

 

A stocky man with a moustache and dark hair which was greying at the sides, stood and walked up onto the stage to tumultuous applause.

 

‘Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I have been privileged in my life to be able to not only command the International Space Station, but to also command the research base in Peary crater on the Moon. It was during my twelve month tour of duty, that an event occurred which changed my view of our world forever . . .’

 

**Peary Base.**

**1st February, 2007.**

 

Base commander, Pavel Vinogradov was five months into his year long stay at the lunar science base. The fifty four year old Russian cosmonaut had flown into space three times previously, aboard Mir and the International Space Station. He was one of the top ten astronauts in terms of total time in space, and had also conducted seven spacewalks in his cosmonaut career. He also held the record for the oldest person to perform a spacewalk.

 

He made his way to the recreation room, where he found the present research director, Professor Richard Fortey and other british members of the lunar base. They were huddled around the large screen television. Other members of the sixty strong team who either lived in London, or had relatives who lived there, joined them  to watch the breaking news.

 

[‘We have an unconfirmed report that the President has been killed by an army of robots that gatecrashed the birthday party of Jackie Tyler, the celebrity millionairess,’] the newsreader announced. [‘Nobody knows where these robots have come from, or who is controlling them. We do know that they have killed a number of people at the Tyler Mansion, and those who weren’t killed are being taken to Battersea for some reason.’]

 

Aerial footage of Battersea Power Station was shown on the screen, where thousands of people could be seen walking into the large building. [‘Police are warning that anyone who is not wearing Cybus earpods should not insert them. They appear to be controlling the people wearing them and causing them to travel to Battersea Power Station.’]

 

Physics professor, Tara Shears had tears in her eyes as she tried to dial her home number on the video phone in one of the private booths. ‘I can’t get through. All the networks are down.’

 

‘What? All of them?’ one of the telecommunications specialists asked.

 

‘All the ones in Britain,’ she informed him.

 

‘The internet!’ One of the Information Technologists called out. ‘Get on Faceblog. Social media should be able to connect us to our families and friends.’

 

The people in the room hurried to the computer terminals and started logging onto their social media accounts. And that was how the fifth group of colonists on the moon found out about John Lumis and his cybermen through social media. When they had finished their twelve month tour of duty, they returned to a very different Britain . . .

 

‘. . . And so we realised that the human race had had a lucky escape. If John Lumic had succeeded, then the sixty people in Peary Base would have been the last bastion of humanity. We would either have had to return to Earth and live as Cybermen, or stay on the Moon and die as humans when our supplies ran out.’

 

There was a deathly hush in the auditorium as he finished. John and Rose looked at each other and nodded. They stood and started to applaud. The rest of the guests stood and took up the applause. Vinogradov had given the best reason yet for starting another branch of humanity away from the Earth.

 

The evening continued with other members of the Space Consortium giving presentations on their contributions to the project. Alan Bond explained how his hybrid engine switched from an air breathing jet engine, to a conventional rocket engine and back again. Elon Musk told how Spacex had taken Reaction Engines designs for a space plane and made it a reality. Richard Branson introduced the Virgin cargo modules and passenger compartments which fitted inside the fuselage of the space plane.

 

Jackie reminded Pete where they were when they saw the inaugural flight of the Space Plane.

 

**Vitex Luxury Airship.**

**  
** **Somewhere over the North Atlantic.**

  
**Friday, 27th April 2018.**

 

  
Pete, Jackie and Tony Tyler were four hours into their flight to join John, Rose and Eyulf in New York, when the CNN midday news update started on the media screen. It showed a live report from Ecuador where a futuristic plane sat on a metal track.

 

‘Oh look Dad. It’s your Space Plane,’ Tony said.

 

‘Well really, it’s the International Space Consortium’s Space Plane,’ Pete said. ‘But our company was involved in developing it. And it wouldn’t have gotten built in just four years without your clever brother-in-law.’

 

He was referring to a symposium John had organised after Cybus Industries signed up to invest in Reaction Engines. At that symposium he had laid out the principles for a vehicle that could launch passengers comfortably into space, and a vehicle that could take them to the Moon and back every few days.

  
On the screen, they could see the plane, which looked like a larger version of Concord, sitting on a raised metallic track which led off into the distance and up the side of a mountain.

 

[‘You join us live here at Chimborazo Spaceport in Ecuador, where this remarkable plane will be launched into space to rendezvous with the International Space Station,’] the science correspondent explained. Behind him, there was a large digital clock which showed there were two minutes left.

 

[‘All the pre-launch checks have been completed and the test pilot reports that he is ready for launch. For this inaugural flight there will be just one pilot and a cargo hold full of supplies for the space station.’]

 

‘Will it be able to get to the Moon?’ Tony asked.

 

‘With most of the cargo hold full of fuel, yes it can,’ Pete told him. ‘But the plan is to use the Space Plane to build a bigger ship in orbit which will be able to give the plane a piggyback ride on a continual loop around the Moon and the Earth. That’ll make it cheaper to get into space and to the Moon.’

 

‘Cool.’

 

They watched the clock count down as the reporter gave a commentary on the day’s proceedings, and it eventually got to the last ten seconds.

 

‘This is it then,’ Jackie said. ‘The human race’s first step into a larger universe.’

 

The count reached zero, and it was a bit of an anticlimax. They had seen the Space Shuttle and Moon Rocket launches, and they were really spectacular with a lot of flames, steam and noise. The Space Plane however, silently started to move forwards, being propelled on the frictionless magnetic field of the Maglev mass driver. The camera followed the plane as it accelerated into the distance, and the telephoto lens showed it climbing up the side of Mount Chimborazo.

 

As the plane reached the end of the three mile long track, they saw the SABRE jet engines ignite, pushing the plane beyond the peak with an an accompanying sonic boom which the microphone picked up a few seconds later. The camera followed the bright dot in front of the contrail for as long as it could before it was obscured by the wispy, high altitude cirrus clouds, making its way into orbit, and history.

 

[‘Wow. That was impressive,’] the news reader said as he came back on screen. [‘And finally, we finish with a report from Vanessa Penfold, who’s been in New York all week reporting on the setting up of the new Torchwood Institute.’]

  
‘Oh my God! Pete, Tony, look. It’s Rose, EJ, and John on the news . . .’

 

The final presentation was given by a group of aeronautical engineering companies who had constructed the vehicle which would take the Space Planes to the Moon and back. John and Rose recalled how it had been broadcast on the news.

 

**Northumberland Place.**

**Notting Hill, London.**

**Tuesday 6th November 2018.**

 

After their evening meal, the Smith family sat down to watch TV in the living room. The evening news was just starting when Ricky, their new Cyber Dog squatted in the middle of the room.

 

‘John, what’s he doin’?’ Rose asked in horror, expecting a pile of poo that John would find hilarious and other owners would be finding less than amusing.

 

John just sat there with a smirk on his face, as two rechargeable penlight batteries popped out of Ricky’s backside onto the carpet.

 

EJ burst into a fit of giggles. ‘He poos batteries,’ he announced. ‘That’s brilliant Daddy.’

 

Rose snorted a laugh. ‘Batteries?’

 

‘Yeah, they’re his treats, your Dad thinks that’ll be a major selling point.’ They looked at EJ, who was still in fits of giggles, and reckoned he was probably right.

 

The news channel was showing a view from the International Space Station, looking out at the bright, curving arc of planet Earth. [‘Just seven months after the first test flight of the Space Consortium’s Space Plane, a fleet of these planes have been busy delivering materials to the International Space Station.’]

 

The camera panned from the Earth to a large cylinder attached to the Space Station. Two large Spacex rocket boosters were strapped to the cylinder, and at the end of the cylinder there was a large rectangular slot with a Space Plane sitting inside. [‘And this is the result,’] the news reader said. [‘This is the Lunar Conveyor, a “space ferry” which will carry the Space Planes to the Moon and back on an endless conveyor belt.’]

 

‘Oh my God! Look at that John. I had no idea they had made so much progress,’ Rose said as they watched the report.

 

‘Yeah. It’s surprising what you can do with a fleet of space trucks and a team of astronaut engineers,’ John agreed.

 

[‘The conveyor is now ready to undock from the ISS so that it can be put into its translunar orbit.’]

 

The commentary switched to the astronauts on the ISS. [‘Roger Control. We have green lights on all airlocks. We are ready to undock. Over.’]

 

[‘Copy that Greg, standby. Lunar Conveyor this is Mission Control. What is your status for undocking? Over.’]

 

[‘Mission Control, all systems are go for undocking. Over.’]

 

[‘Copy that Lunar Conveyor. ISS, you are go to initiate undocking maneuver. Over.’]

 

[‘Copy Mission Control. Confirming undocking maneuver.’]

 

The robotic arm of the ISS gently pushed the core away from the airlock. [‘From now on, Space Planes at the Moon will dock directly with the Conveyor to build the “spokes and wheel” of the completed ship.’]

 

‘Cor. That is SO cool,’ EJ said as he watched the Conveyor move slowly away from the cameras.

 

At the end of the news, it was time for the “and finally” item, and there on the screen was Ricky. The real Ricky, trotted over to the TV and sat down to watch himself.

 

[‘It appears Cybus Industries have done it again, with a high tech toy which promises to be the must have toy this Christmas,’] the presenter said . . .

 

Finally, Johann-Dietrich Wörner brought the evening to a close, and handed out one hundred flight tickets to the people who would be the first space tourists to go to the moon. The Tylers and Smiths were amazed when they were given tickets for their families.


	2. Dunwich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter was a retrospective look at the space industry in Pete's world as a bit of scene setting for later. This chapter is a bit more scene setting and an introduction of what's to come.

**Chapter 2**

 

**Dunwich**

 

 

The sleepy hamlet of Dunwich, pronounced “Dun’ich”, lay roughly eight miles west-north-west of Trayne. The main road westward out of Trayne ran through the neighbouring villages of Stouch and Oppley, from each of which secondary roads led to Dunwich. The village itself was therefore at the apex of a road triangle which had Oppley and Stouch at its lower corners; it's only other highway being a lane which rolled in a Chestertonian fashion some five miles to reach Hickham which was three miles north.

A triangular Green ornamented by five fine elms and a white-railed pond stood at the heart of Dunwich. The war memorial stood in the church-ward corner of the Green, and spaced out round the sides were the church itself, the vicarage, an inn, a smithy, the post office, a shop, and a number of cottages. Altogether, the village comprised some sixty cottages and small houses, a village hall, Kyle Manor, and The Grange.

The church was mostly perpendicular Gothic, and decorated architecture, but with a Norman west doorway and font. The vicarage was Georgian; The Grange Victorian; Kyle Manor had Tudor roots with numerous later graftings. The cottages showed most of the styles which had existed between the two Elizabeths, but even more recent than the two latest County Council cottages were the utilitarian wings that had been added to The Grange when UNIT took it over for research.

The existence of Dunwich had never been convincingly accounted for. It was not in a strategic position to hold a market, not even across a packway of any importance. It appeared, at some unknown time, simply to have occurred; the Domesday survey noted it as a hamlet, and it had continued as little more, for the railway age ignored it, as had the coach roads, and even the navigation canals.

So far as was known, it rested upon no desirable minerals: no official eye ever saw it as a likely site for an aerodrome, or a bombing-range, or a battle school; only UNIT intruded, and except for the laying of fibre optic cables to the village for telephone and internet connectivity, the reconditioning of The Grange had little effect upon the village life. Dunwich had lived and drowsed upon its good soil in Arcadian undistinction for a thousand years; and there seemed no reason why it should not so to do for the next millennium, too.

This didn’t mean however, that Dunwich was altogether without history. It had had its moments. In 1931, it was the centre of an untraced outbreak of foot-and-mouth disease. And in 1916 an off-course Zeppelin unloaded a bomb which fell in a ploughed field and fortunately failed to explode. And before that it hit the headlines . . . well, anyway, the broadsheets . . . when Black Ned, a second-class highwayman, was shot on the steps of The Scythe and Stone Inn by Sweet Polly Parker, and although this gesture of reproof appears to have been of a more personal than social nature, she was, nevertheless, much lauded for it in the ballads of 1768.

Then, too, there was the sensational closure of the nearby St Accius' Abbey, and the redistribution of the brethren for reasons which have been a subject of intermittent local speculation ever since it took place, in 1493.

Other events include the stabling of Cromwell's horses in the church, and a visit by William Wordsworth, who was inspired by the Abbey ruins to the production of one of his more routine commendatory sonnets.

With these exceptions, however, recorded time seemed to have flowed over Dunwich without a ripple. Nor would the inhabitants have had it otherwise; most of them having lived there for numerous generations in a placid continuity which had become a right. Relative newcomers to the village included the Vicar and his wife, the inhabitants of Kyle Manor, the local GP, the district-nurse, and, of course, the researchers at The Grange.

Being on the edge of the London commuter belt, and having broadband connectivity, a number of new families had moved into the village where they could work mainly from home and commute to their workplaces once or twice a week. Indeed, there was a young architect who had married his secretary and moved to New York where he worked for the award winning firm, Freecell Architecture. After gaining a few years experience and making a name for himself, they had returned to Great Britain and bought one of the cottages on the Green.

Kyle Manor and its associated cottages were owned by author and Justice of the Peace, Gordon Zellaby. Although he and his wife Angela were newcomers, because of his position and learning, he was seen as a pillar of the community, and was regularly called upon to mediate in disputes between local farmers and residents. Their 21 year old daughter, Ferrelyn also lived with them at the Manor.

The village doctor was Doctor Charles Willers, who’s surgery was just along from the Green on Stouch Road. He and his wife Milly had lived there for over twenty years, but were still seen as newcomers by the senior residents who had been born there. However, they were not seen as outsiders. He was a well loved and respected family doctor, who had overseen the antenatal care of most of the young people in the village, and treated their various childhood illnesses.

The surgery also served patients from the adjoining villages of Otterly and Stouch, and although Doctor Willers had over a hundred and fifty patients registered with him, the surgery was rarely full. Apart from the occasional influenza or winter vomiting bug outbreak, the locals were usually fit and healthy.

The elderly patients with chronic illnesses such as diabetes, heart disease and lung diseases, were looked after by the district nurse, Nurse Daniels, who did home visits when they were unable to attend the surgery.

Reverend Hubert Leebody was the vicar of Dunwich, and had lived at the vicarage with his wife Dora for as long as most people could remember, but he hadn’t been born there, so had the dubious title of “the oldest newcomer”. It was a Dunwich thing. He was a tall man with a full head of grey hair, warm, brown eyes, and a compassionate face which showed a life dedicated to the care of people’s souls. The Leebody’s niece, Polly Rushton was staying with them at the vicarage whilst she worked at The Grange.

The Grange in Dunwich was a grey stone Victorian building on Hickham Lane, which had a gravel drive which led up to the gabelled entrance. At the rear of the building, two wings had been added that were more functional than aesthetic, and contained laboratories and engineering workshops. The director of research was the renowned theoretical physicist Professor Arthur Crimm, OBE. The staff consisted of a number of civilian and UNIT scientists, as well as officers and soldiers.

Crimm was presently in one of the high security workshops, standing in front of a mirrored icosahedron with his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat. He was a short, chubby man with an egg shaped face and head with male pattern baldness. The brown hair that he had on the sides of his head, stuck out like a typical mad scientist. Polly Rushton, a UNIT engineering undergraduate, was attaching flat discs to each of the triangular sections and wiring them up to a control console.

‘There we are Professor, all the induction coils are in place and we’re ready to power them up,’ Polly announced.

‘Right you are then,’ he said with a smile. He looked over to the technicians who were standing by the computer monitors. ‘Are we ready to proceed?’

‘All sensors are on line and ready to go,’ the lead technician replied.

‘Good. Polly, set the generator to five milliamps at five millivolts and hold it there whilst we calibrate the sensors,’ Crimm commanded.

‘Yes Professor,’ Polly responded. ‘Current, five milliamps, potential difference, five millivolts.’

There was no discernible difference in the alien artefact, and the technicians tapped keyboards and adjusted controls.

‘Okay. We’ve got a baseline,’ the lead technician told them. ‘You can start to ramp it up.’

Crimm stood beside Polly and looked at the digital generator. ‘Let’s set it for one milliamp and millivolt per increment and wait for the sensors to start registering an effect.’

‘Okay. One on one . . . and away we go,’ Polly said, pressing the green start button.

Crimm went over to the monitors and watched the readings on the screens. There were numbers scrolling slowly in one window, an oscilloscope display in another, and a three dimensional graph in yet another.

He looked over to Polly. ‘Hold your hand over the abort button. At the slightest hint of anything untoward happening, kill the power.’

Polly held her hand over the big red button on top of the generator. ‘Standing by.’

At a poetically coincidental thirteen minutes and thirteen seconds, a teacup rattled in its saucer. Panes of glass rattled in their frames, and racking against the wall started to sway slightly.

‘Killing the power!’ Polly called out and hit the red button. She watched the racking come to rest. ‘What the hell was that?’

Crimm was inspecting the information on the screens. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d have said it was an earthquake.’

The junior technician was wide eyed in amazement. ‘This thing creates earthquakes? That is awesome.’

‘Awesome indeed,’ Crimm said in agreement. ‘I think we need to see if we can get the panels off and have a look inside.’

 

 

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

 

 

**Torchwood Special Operations Unit.**

 

**Torchwood Tower, Canary Wharf.**

 

**Tuesday 24th September.**

 

**09:42.**

 

Blue Watch Supervisor, Rose Smith, the blond haired, hazel eyed beauty, left the supervisor’s office and went to the kitchenette to pour two mugs of tea. One for herself, and one for her husband, the brilliant and foxy Doctor John Smith. She knew he had arrived because they shared a telepathic bond, and knew he would have his usual cup of tea in Special Operations before he went up to his laboratory on the eighth floor.

The Standby Room had one wall which contained the tall windows which looked out across South Colonnade towards Jubilee Park and Middle Dock, and the domed entrance to the underground station could be seen on the edge of the park. The wall to the right of the windows contained the video wall which displayed a view of the Standby Room in Torchwood New York. To the right of the video wall was the glass fronted Supervisor’s Office.

Opposite this was the status wall, a collection of video screens which displayed the current status of the Special Operations Unit and the agents in the field. And finally, to the left of the status wall was the glass fronted Despatch Office, which led to the Communications Hub. This area looked just like the room you see behind the newsreaders on the television, all desks and media screens. To the left of the Despatch Office was the kitchen area and the short corridor leading to the doors of the unit.

In the centre of the Standby Room were a collection of sofas, comfortable chairs, round, glass dining tables and chairs, and low tables with newspapers, magazines, plates and mugs. Andre, Angel, Other Craig and Amy were out on “shouts”. The rest of the Watch were relaxing on the sofas and the chairs, chatting amongst themselves and with their counterparts in New York.

John walked through the doors of the Standby Room wearing his usual tight, brown pin striped suit. His hair was standing up in its usual unruly fashion. He strolled over to the kitchen area and accepted the offered mug of tea.

‘Ooh you beauty,’ he said, and Rose wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or the mug of tea. He kissed his wife on the lips, and they felt the floor wobble slightly and the crockery in the kitchen area rattle.

The members of the Watch looked around and muttered ‘tremor’ and ‘earthquake?’

Rose pulled out of the kiss and frowned. ‘Did you just feel the ground move?’

John gave her a lopsided smile. ‘That normally only happens in the bedroom.’ He glanced over at Gwen O’Toole and gave her a cheeky wink.

Gwen covered her mouth and snorted a laugh. Rose blushed and playfully slapped John’s arm. John didn’t notice though. He was looking at the video wall, and the reactions of the New York agents. He walked over to the wall and had a drink of his tea.

‘Did you guys feel that?’ he asked.

One of the agents, whose digital label above his head said “Brad”, walked towards the screen. [‘Yeah Doc. A small tremor.’]

‘Hmm,’ John hummed in thought. He went over to the Despatch Office, where Julia De Graff was at the high tech desk.

‘Julia. Who’s the supervisor on duty in Mumbai?’ John asked.

‘Morning Doc. Er . . . It’s Ragesh this morning. Oh, sorry. Their afternoon I should say.’

John smiled at her correction. ‘Can you give him a call please?’

‘Yeah, sure.’

Rose came and stood at John’s shoulder. She didn’t need to ask him what was going on. Over the last few years, their telepathic bond had deepened, and she was able to follow his thought processes as he tried to solve a problem. In fact, she had realised in a pub quiz, at one of the Torchwood social evenings, that she knew answers to questions on subjects she wasn’t even aware of.

An Asian man’s head and shoulders appeared on a screen in front of them. He had neat, black hair and a trimmed beard.

[‘Hi Doc, Rose. Haven’t seen you for a while. How are things?’] Ragesh asked with a beaming smile.  
‘Hi Raj. Good to see you. Things are good thanks. Just a quick call to ask if you’ve had any seismic activity over there recently,’ John said.

Ragesh looked puzzled. [‘A minor tremor about a minute ago. How did you know about that?’]

‘Because we felt it too,’ John replied.

Rose had followed John’s reasoning and anticipated his next questions. She was using a mouse and keyboard next to Julia, and looked at the information on a screen in front of her. ‘Minor tremors reported all over the planet. No large quake, and no apparent epicentre.’

John smiled at her and raised his eyebrows in admiration. ‘Interesting, don’t you think?’

‘Yeah. I wonder what it was?’ Rose asked.

‘No idea, but I think we should keep a look out to see if it happens again,’ John said, looking back towards Ragesh.

Ragesh nodded. ‘We’ll keep a close eye on the seismographs.’

‘Thanks Raj. See you soon,’ John said and ended the call.

‘I’ll have a word with New York and ask them to stay alert,’ Rose told him.

‘Thanks for that Love. I’ll nip up to my lab and see if I can glean any data out of the seismographs.’


	3. Busy Morning At The Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Torchwood Despatch get a number of calls about a small village in Hampshire, and Rose sends a team to investigate.

**Chapter 3**

 

**Busy Morning At The Office**

  
  
  


**The Smith’s Residence.**

 

**Northumberland Place.**

 

**Notting Hill, London.**

 

**Wednesday 25th September.**

 

**06:30.**

  
  


Grunts of pleasure and groans of satisfaction emanated from the steam filled shower cubicle of the en suite bathroom, with an accompaniment of a squeaking bare bottom on the tiled cubicle, as Doctor John Smith held his wife Rose up against the wall of the cubicle. She had her strong, shapely legs wrapped around his waist as she ran her fingers through his hair, gripping it to pull him into a fierce, passionate kiss. They both gasped and let out squeaks as they climaxed.

 

'Mmmmmm. Thank you,' Rose said, as she unwrapped her legs from around him.

 

'And thank you,' John breathed in her ear. 

 

‘Have you decided what clothes you’re gonna take with you on the trip?’ she asked as they washed each other’s bodies with shower gel.

 

‘I’ll just throw a couple of things into a bag,’ he replied in a typical “bloke-ish” kind of way.

 

‘You will not!’ she told him as she worked the gel into his private regions. ‘You’ll need your dinner suit for a start. There’s a formal dinner with the ship’s captain.’

 

‘Oh there isn’t is there?’ John groaned. ‘You know what happens when I wear that dinner suit.’

 

‘Yeah. You get me all horny,’ she replied with a wicked grin.

 

‘Really?’ He made sure her breasts had plenty of shower gel rubbed over them.

 

‘Uh-huh. That “old universe” suit might have been jinxed, but this “Pete’s World” suit is . . . sexy.’

 

‘Sexy?’ He sniffed and raised his eyebrows. ‘In that case, I look forward dining with you at the captain’s table Misses Smith.’ He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. ‘But I don’t know what you’re worrying about, there’s plenty of time yet.’

 

Her fingers stopped massaging his scalp mid wash. ‘John. It’s Wednesday today. The flight is on Saturday. I’ve already got the kids cases packed. My case is nearly done, and yours . . ?’

 

‘. . . Will be packed and ready to go by Friday. I promise,’ he said with his boyish smile as he turned her around and held her hair like a rope to rinse the lather out.

 

‘Hmm. Okay then,’ she said doubtfully.

 

He nibbled her ear from behind and whispered, ‘why don’t you pick up the bar of soap?’

 

‘There isn’t a bar of soap.’

 

‘I know,’ he replied with a waggle of his eyebrows.

 

‘Oh. Right,’ Rose said with a giggle, and proceeded to bend forwards to pick up the non existent bar of soap and extend the rather enjoyable recreational shower.

  
  


**Torchwood Special Operations Supervisor’s Office.**

 

**Torchwood Tower, Canary Wharf.**

 

**08:22.**

  
  


[‘Watch supervisor to the Despatch Office A.S.A.P . . . Repeat. Watch supervisor to the Despatch Office A.S.A.P.] Jake “The Peg” Simmonds called over the intercom.

 

Rose, who happened to be the Blue Watch Supervisor, had just sat down at her desk with a cup of tea from the Standby kitchenette, after giving the start-of-shift briefing. She was wearing her Torchwood dress uniform of knee length black skirt, white blouse with neck tab, and her black, Giuseppe Zanotti calf length boots. Her smart, black jacket was hung over the back of her swivel chair.

 

She rolled her eyes and thought “typical. Just sit down to do some paperwork after handing out assignments and another job comes in”. She stood up and slipped her jacket over her shoulders before taking a sip of her tea and taking it with her. Camera director Matt Jackson, filmed her from the Standby Room as she headed for the Despatch Office, before following her inside.

 

‘Whatcha got for me Jakey?’ she asked as she walked into the hi-tech Despatch Office.

 

‘Ah, Rose. I’ve got a call holding from a Colonel Erisa Magambo from UNIT.’

 

That name evoked memories from over a decade ago for Rose, when an alternate reality had formed around Donna Noble, and a UNIT officer had helped her to change it back. Those events had ultimately led to her and John being together now.

 

‘Thanks Jake. Put her through,’ Rose said as she put on a headset. ‘Mornin’ Colonel. Rose Smith, Watch Supervisor. How can I help?’

 

[‘Hello Rose. My name is Erisa, and I’ll get straight to the point. We have a . . . situation at one of our research facilities out in Hampshire,’] the colonel told her.

 

‘What kind of situation?’ Rose asked, thinking that it would have to be pretty serious that UNIT couldn’t handle it.

 

[‘We don’t know,’] Erisa replied honestly. [‘We had contact with The Grange at 22:00 last night. At 07:00 this morning, a communications officer tried to contact them on the secure phone line and got no response. She then tried radio and mobile phone with no success.’]

 

Rose muted the call momentarily. ‘Jake. Check telecommunications in Hampshire. See if there have been any reports of equipment problems, engineer call outs, stuff like that.’

 

Jake started to investigate as Rose reconnected the call. ‘By the name of it, I’m presuming The Grange is out in the middle of nowhere doin’ some hush-hush kinda research. Could it be equipment failure or bad reception?’

 

[‘That was our first thought, so we dispatched a team to investigate,’] Erisa explained.

 

‘And what did they find?’ Rose asked.

 

[‘Er, again, we don’t. As far as we know, they reached Dunwich where The Grange is located, but then lost contact with them. When we have unexplained situations like this, our protocol is . . .’]

 

‘To call Torchwood,’ Rose finished for her. ‘Okay Erisa. I’ll despatch a team out straight away. I’ll also see if we can access any satellite imaging over the area.’

 

[‘Thank you Rose. I’ll be here in my office monitoring comms,’] Erisa informed her.

 

‘Okay. Speak soon.’ Rose ended the call and removed the headset. ‘Jake. See if you can find a satellite over Hampshire.’

 

‘Okay Rose, but you might want to take this call first,’ said Jake.

 

‘Who is it?’ Rose asked, slightly impatiently. She had to get a team out to Hampshire.

 

‘A Sir John Tenby. Chief Constable of Hampshire,’ Jake said with a smug smile.

 

Rose put the headset back on and nodded at Jake to connect the call.

 

‘Hello Chief Constable. I’m Rose Smith, Watch Supervisor. How can I help you?’

 

[‘Ah, Mrs Smith. Good morning. Sorry to trouble you, but I’ve had some reports from my officers in Trayne that there are some odd goings on in a neighbouring village,’] the Chief Constable informed her.

 

‘It wouldn’t happen to be a little out-of-the-way place called Dunwich by any chance?’ Rose asked.

 

[‘Good Lord! I’ve heard of the reputation of the Institute, but that is incredible,’] Sir John exclaimed in amazement.

 

Rose gave a single laugh. ‘It’s only because we’ve had a call from another concerned party. Have you got any details of the odd goings on Sir John, because we’ve got scant information on what’s happening out there.’ Once again, Rose muted the call and asked Jake to mobilise the Watch.

 

[‘Of course Rose. Residents in Oppley reported a house on fire in Dunwich, with, apparently, nothing being done about it. The Trayne fire appliance turned out and thereafter failed to make any reports. The Trayne police despatched a car to find out what had happened to the fire-engine, and that, too, vanished into silence. Oppley reported a second fire, and still, seemingly, nothing being done, Constable Gobby, in Stouch, was contacted, and sent off on his bicycle to Dunwich; and no more was heard of him either,’] the Chief Constable reported.

 

‘There was an old woman who swallowed a fly,’ Jake sang without humour.

 

‘Excuse me a moment Sir John,’ Rose interrupted. ‘Jake. Call a Code Red. Get a team over there right now. Full Emergency Protocol . . . Sorry about that, please continue.’

 

[‘No. Thank you for your response Rose. We have just received notification from Trayne Travel bus company that the last bus from Trayne, calling at Stouch, Oppley, and Dunwich, never made it to Hickham. Also, the bus which should have passed through Dunwich on the school run this morning, failed to reach the school at Oppley. A truck that went to look for the bus did not return.’]

 

Before Rose could reply, Jake interrupted. ‘Rose. Sorry to interrupt, but this is important.’

 

‘What have you got?’ Rose asked, wondering how her morning could get any worse.

 

‘Mobile phone calls from a British Telecom engineer and Post Office delivery driver. The road into Dunwich from Oppley and Hickham are littered with vehicles. A fire-engine in a ditch. A bus, a recovery truck, and an online shopping delivery van on one road. Another bus, a military lorry, a local bread delivery van, and a mountain bike on the other,’ Jake reported.

 

‘Any signs of assailants, weapons or casualties?’ Rose enquired.

 

Jake checked the transcripts. ‘Er . . . A police constable wearing a cycle helmet lying unmoving on the grass verge. Condition unknown. Passengers on the bus. Not moving. Condition unknown. The workmate of the BT engineer who called the emergency services, collapsed when he approached the bus to investigate. Condition unknown. No signs of weapons fire or explosions.’

 

‘Thanks Jake. Did you get that Sir John?’ Rose said.

 

[‘Yes Rose. I heard that. We’re cordoning off the area. Please ask your teams to take care.’]

 

‘Don’t worry. We’re goin’ tooled up and are gonna throw everythin’ we have at it. I’ll keep you apprised.’

 

[‘Thank you.’] 

 

The call ended, and Rose blew out her cheeks. It had been a while since the Institute had had a morning like this.

 

[‘Rose? Is everything all right?’] her husband asked in her head. He’d picked up on her stress levels as he did the school run. 

 

John was part Human, and part Gallifreyan, and had given his wife telepathic abilities when they bonded after their wedding. He had given her the gift of understanding the language of the Time Lords, and with that came the unexpected bonus of being able to communicate by thought.

 

[‘Yeah. There’s a UNIT research facility in Hampshire that has gone silent. Nothing’s getting in or out of the village. We’re gonna need your input on this one Love.’]

 

[‘Okay. We’re just getting into the car now to go to school. Put the kettle on, I’ll be there soon.’]

 

Rose visibly relaxed and smiled to herself. [‘Thanks love. See you soon.’]

 

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

  
  


**Oppley Road, Dunwich.**

 

**Hampshire.**

 

**09:42.**

  
  


The six wheeled Mobile Incident Vehicle sped along Oppley Road towards the village of Dunwich. It was really a country lane, but two vehicles could pass with care. With its siren and blue lights, the team had made good time along the motorways and “A” roads from London. A few hundred yards ahead, “Welsh” Pete Davies saw the blue and yellow battenburg pattern of a police patrol car blocking the road. There were a number of people standing around, presumably locals who were concerned about the people in Dunwich.

 

Pete slowed the MIV to a stop and lowered the window.

 

‘Morning Sir,’ the young officer said as he approached the imposing looking vehicle. ‘You must be the team from Torchwood.’

 

‘Look! It’s those people off the telly,’ one of the bystanders announced.

 

‘Oh yeah. They’ll soon sort it out,’ said another.

 

‘That’s right. What can you tell us?’ Pete asked in his Welsh Valleys accent. He waved at the bystanders as they took pictures with their mobile phones.

 

The officer pointed past his car. ‘Just down the lane there, it bends to the left and you’ll see the collection of vehicles. We know that the chap lying there in the BT overalls was walking slowly when he collapsed, so he seems to define the edge of whatever it is that’s causing all this.’

 

‘Okay, thanks for that. If you can let us through, we’ll go take a look,’ Pete said.

 

‘Right you are,’ the officer said and climbed into his vehicle. He reversed it into the gateway of a field whilst the MIV silently rolled past. The car then drove forward again to restore the road block.

 

They drove past the white sign with black lettering which said: 

 

**DUNWICH.**

**Please drive carefully through the village.**

 

‘Blimey! Would you look at that,’ “Other Craig” Owens said as he looked at the video feed to the rows of flat screen monitors above the narrow control desk on the right hand side of the vehicle. The agents were sitting on a row of seats that faced the monitors. As the road narrowed into a single track road, the vehicles could be seen scattered across the lane.

 

‘Reminds me of a war zone,’ Stuart “Irish” Sinclair said. 

 

Before joining Torchwood, he’d been a private with UNIT and had been posted to Eastern Europe to help mediations during a civil war. The Torchwood documentary Camera Director Will Hustler, who was travelling with them, agreed with him, having filmed the conflict when he was a news cameraman.

 

Pete parked the MIV, and clambered into the back to sit at the control desk. ‘Right. First things first. Let’s get a “Fly” in the air.’

 

A small dome, the size of a tennis ball, opened on the roof of the MIV, and a small, fly sized drone took to the air. Pete flew it to the fallen BT engineer and studied the telemetry.

 

‘Ah. He’s alive!’ Pete called out. The team breathed sighs of relief and expressed their delight. ‘Heart rate, 42 beats a minute. Respiration, 12 breaths a minute. Core body temperature, 36 degrees Celsius . . . Are you getting this Doc?’ 

 

John was monitoring the telemetry remotely in the Communications Hub of the Special Operations Unit. [‘Yeah, I’m getting it. It’s good news that he’s still alive. He’s a bit cold, but it is September. What’s the weather like there?’]

 

‘Cold with a mist,’ Pete reported.

 

[‘Right. So these readings make it look like he’s in a coma.’]

 

‘A coma?’ Amy “Legs” Williams queried. ‘What would put people into a coma?’

 

[‘A number of drugs and gases. Narcoleptic seizures. Light stimulated epilepsy and other neurological conditions,’] John reeled off.

 

‘Okay. Let’s check the other vehicles then,’ Pete said, and steered the “Spy-Fly” to the bus. 

 

It was difficult to get accurate readings through the glass windows, but they could tell that the passengers and driver were alive. The same was true of the UNIT soldiers in the truck, and the bread delivery driver. The one that gave them concern was the police officer who had cycled to the scene. They found him lying on the damp grass verge, his body temperature close to hypothermic.

 

‘We’ve got to help him,’ Amy said with concern.

 

‘But how?’ Pete asked. ‘Look what happened to the BT guy.’

 

‘But we’ve got state-of-the-art protection and monitoring equipment,’ Amy reasoned.

 

Pete looked unsure. Amy was right, but they didn’t know what they were dealing with. Would their equipment be enough? He decided to defer the decision to a higher authority.

 

‘Doc? Have you seen the readings on the police officer? We need to do something, and quickly.’

 

[‘Yeah, I’ve seen them. The damp grass and mist is causing him to lose heat faster than the others.’] It was one of those situations where you were damned if you took action and it went wrong, and damned if you did nothing and let a person die.

 

[‘The “Fly” hasn’t detected any airborne chemical or biological agents. However, that doesn’t mean there aren’t any. There don’t seem to be any optical, sonic or electromagnetic emissions that could affect the nervous system . . .’] There was a long pause as he contemplated his options. [‘Okay. One volunteer with sealed full body armour to make an attempt to rescue the police officer.’]

 

‘Thanks Doc,’ Pete said with relief.

 

‘I’ll go,’ Amy said, climbing out of her seat before anyone else could volunteer. ‘I’ve got my kit on anyway and all I have to do is seal my helmet.’

 

Her field partner Craig looked at her with concern. ‘Are you sure Legs? I don’t mind going y’know.’

 

Amy would normally give him a playfully sarcastic reply, but seeing the concern in his eyes, and feeling the butterflies in her stomach, she just smiled and stroked his cheek.

 

‘No. I’m sure,’ she replied. She took a swig of water from her bottle, and Craig lowered her helmet visor, locking it in position.

 

She activated the suit from her wrist panel, and there was a hiss of oxygen filling the body armour.

 

‘See you later,’ Craig said with a forced smile.

 

[‘Not if I see you first,’] Amy replied through the suit intercom, giving him a nervous grin.

 

Pete lowered the rear door of the MIV, letting in the damp Autumnal air. Amy walked down the ramp and around the side of the MIV, whilst the team watched her on the external cameras. She prepared her SA80 assault rifle for firing and slowly approached the BT engineer, stopping about a body’s length away.

 

[‘I’ll make a dash to the police officer and get him out, and then I’ll come back for the engineer,’] Amy told them.

 

‘Copy that Amy. Good luck.’

 

They watched with held breath as Amy sprinted across the lane towards the grass verge where the officer lay. They all gasped in disbelief as they saw her pitch forwards as though she had stumbled. But she hadn’t stumbled. She didn’t try to save herself and get her legs back under her. She fell into an awkward rolling skid and came to a halt next to the comatose officer.

 

‘AMY!’ Craig shouted, leaping to his feet and hurrying towards the door.

 

‘AGENT OWENS. FREEZE.’ Pete barked out the order, causing Craig to pull up short of the door. His military style basic training had kicked in and he’d obeyed the command without question.

 

Craig turned towards the mission leader, his eyes moist with tears. ‘But it’s Amy. We can’t just leave her out there.’

 

‘I know son,’ Pete said sympathetically. ‘But we can’t rescue her either.’

 

‘So what are we going to do then?’ Stuart asked. ‘We don’t abandon our own.’

 

‘Nobody is abandoning anybody,’ Pete said forcefully. ‘But it’s like rescuing someone who’s fallen through the ice. Everyone who goes out there ends up needing to be rescued.’

 

He turned back to the control panel and opened communications. ‘Mike India Victor One to Despatch. Agent down. Request immediate backup. Repeat, Mike India Victor One to Despatch. Agent down. Request immediate backup. Over.’

 

[‘Copy that Mike India Victor One. We are scrambling Sky Hawk One. ETA thirty minutes. Over,’] Jake replied.

 

‘Copy that Jake. Over.’

 

‘I sealed her helmet visor,’ Craig said quietly as he looked guiltily at Pete and Stuart. ‘I thought I was protecting her . . .’  They gave him a puzzled look, and then it dawned on them what he had realised. ‘That gives us about an hour and a half to get her out of there before her suit oxygen runs out,’ Craig reminded them.

  
  



	4. Preliminary Enquiries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John does the school run before arriving in Special Operations. Things go pear shaped, and he has to organise a rescue.

**Chapter 4**

 

**Preliminary Enquiries**

  
  
  


John was in the kitchen of his Notting Hill home, wearing his usual brown, pinstripe suit. After their extended shower, he had managed to get his unruly hair into a sticky-uppy kind of order. Rose had already left for work, getting a ride from her friend Alice Dimaggio, the head of the Torchwood Psychology Department. With the help of their house robot, Donna, he was getting his children ready for their day, before doing the school run. 

 

‘Eyulf. You have PE this morning, so make sure you take your clean kit with you,’ Donna instructed as she accessed his timetable.

 

‘Got it Donna. It’s already in my backpack,’ Eyulf replied. He was the eldest of the three children, and was now in his first year at secondary school.

 

‘Juleshka, Jason. Your lunch boxes are ready. Don’t forget to put them in your bags,’ she said with a smile on her high resolution facial display.

 

‘Don’t worry, I’ll get that for them,’ John said as he picked up the plastic boxes and put them in their bags.

 

Juleshka, who was three years younger than Eyulf, had a box with mythical creatures from the Harry Potter films on it. Jason was the youngest of the children, being born fifteen months after his sister, and his lunch box was decorated with the characters from the popular, animated Space Patrol television program.

 

‘See you later Donna,’ the children called out as John shepherded them down the hall and out the door.

 

‘Bye you lot,’ Donna called back.

 

‘Thanks Donna. Catch you later,’ John said as he closed the door.

 

They went down the steps and around to the left where Delores the DeLorean was parked in front of the house. John pressed the keyfob and the gull-wing doors rose up. As the children were organising themselves into the seats, John sensed that his wife Rose was worried about something.

 

[‘Rose? Is everything all right?’] he thought as he waited for the kids to fasten themselves in.

 

[‘Yeah. There’s a UNIT research facility in Hampshire that has gone silent. Nothing’s getting in or out of the village. We’re gonna need your input on this one Love.’]

 

[‘Okay. We’re just getting into the car now to go to school. Put the kettle on, I’ll be there soon,’] he told her as he climbed into the driving seat.

 

John felt her relax as she knew the cavalry would be coming to the rescue. [‘Thanks love. See you soon.’]

 

John drove the car off the drive and turned right down the road. Lonsdale Road was busy with a number of cars also doing the school run, so John took manual control and managed to pull into the small car park in front of the imposing, Edwardian red brick building. The passenger door rose up, and Eyulf got out to allow Juleshka and Jason to climb out. Once he was back in the passenger seat, John doubled back on himself and headed east along Westbourne Grove towards the Westway.

 

He drove over Lord Hill’s Bridge, a victorian iron truss bridge, past the Royal Oak Underground Station, and under the elevated Westway. On the left hand side, they came to a modern, three storey glass and steel building which was the Westminster Academy. John pulled into the bus stop and let Eyulf out, before turning around further up the road and heading east on the Westway towards the city and Canary Wharf.

 

When he arrived at the Tower, he made his way up to Special Operations and his cup of tea. Rose sensed when he had arrived, so poured them both a mug from the pot and took them through to the Hub.

 

‘Ooh, thanks Sweetheart,’ he said as he took the offered brew and gave her a peck on the cheek. ‘So, what’s occurring?’

 

She handed him the tablet with the latest information on it, and brought him up to speed. ‘I’ve appointed Pete Davis as mission leader and he’s taken Stuart, Amy and Craig in an MIV to run the investigation. They should be arrivin’ on scene in about fifteen minutes.’

 

‘Good,’ John said as he finished reading the tablet and had a sip of his tea. ‘That’ll give me time to have a look at the satellite data.’

 

He sat next to a technician at the multimedia desk and started bringing up images and data on the screens. ‘Hmm. Look at that . . . There are cows and sheep lying in the fields around the village.’

 

Rose leaned over and looked at the screen. ‘Oh yeah . . . and what are those black blobs over here?’

 

John put on his brainy specs and squinted at the screen. ‘Crows! It’s a . . . ah,’ he said hesitantly.

 

‘What? What is it?’ Rose asked.

 

‘The collective noun for a group of crows, is a murder,’ he told her. ‘Not very appropriate in the circumstances. Any hoo. Whatever this phenomenon is, it seems to affect all animal groups.’

 

‘Any ideas what it is?’ Rose asked.

 

‘Not from the satellite data. We might get more from the team on the ground when they arrive. We’re about to lose this satellite so let’s look for any visual clues from the stored images while we acquire another satellite,’ John suggested.

 

It was like looking at a high resolution version of Google Maps as John panned along every street in the village, whilst getting background information off the internet. He saw that it was pronounced “Dun’ich”, and that the nearest town was Trayne which lay roughly eight miles to the south west. There was the smaller town of Hickham to the north, and the neighbouring villages of Stouch and Oppley.

 

He also saw the triangular Green, five elms and the white-railed pond on the satellite view, along with the war memorial, the church, the vicarage, the local pub, a smithy, the post office, the village shop, and a number of cottages. Further out, along the three lanes, he could make out some sixty cottages and small houses, the village hall, Kyle Manor, and The Grange.

 

John finished reading the all the known facts about Dunwich, took off his glasses and leaned back in his chair. ‘Blimey!’

 

‘What is it? What have you found?’ Rose asked, not picking up any threat that he had read about.

 

‘I’ve found that Dunwich is boring,’ he announced. ‘It’s just an ordinary village. A quiet, ordinary village. A quiet, ordinary, boring village. And apart from The Grange, it’s full of quiet, ordinary people. Isn’t that brilliant?!’

 

‘What do they do at The Grange?’ Rose asked.

 

‘I’m not sure,’ John said as he tugged his ear. ‘But I wouldn’t be surprised if it is somehow connected to what is happening there.’ He went back to the satellite view and zoomed out. ‘What I am sure of though, is the size of the affected area.’

 

Rose leaned in close and looked over his shoulder as he explained. ‘See that blob of crows there?’ he started, an Rose nodded. ‘If this event occurred during darkness, they would have been roosting and in the trees. As they are in a field, they must have been flying, which means when they fell into a coma, they would have just dropped to the ground.’

 

Rose picked up on his thoughts through their link. ‘So that defines a border of the effect.’

 

‘Exactly. And if you look at the BT engineer, he was walking when he fell, which defines another part of the border,’ he continued.

 

‘And any vehicles would have travelled some distance into the affected area, meaning you couldn’t use them as an accurate marker,’ Rose reasoned.

 

‘Except for the recovery truck that went to find the bus. When it would have seen the bus, it would have slowed down to park behind it. So that roughly defines another border. Cows and sheep aren’t known for their speed, so the ones furthest from the village and facing the village can be assumed to be the ones who wandered into the affected area.’

 

John used the graphical tools to join the borders to form a circle. ‘There we are, 2 miles in diameter. And if we interpolate diameters across the data points, we can find the centre . . . Oh.’

 

Oh what?’ Rose asked.

 

‘It’s the ruins of the Abbey,’ he said as though disappointed. ‘I thought it would be The Grange.’

 

‘Rose?’ Jake called out. ‘The team have arrived at Dunwich.’

 

‘They made good time,’ Rose said.

 

‘Right. Let’s sync with the MIV and see what’s going on,’ John said as he accessed the live feeds from the team.

 

[‘Right. First things first. Let’s get a “Fly” in the air,’] he heard Stuart say, and saw him using the joystick on the control panel to fly it.

 

‘Ah, good man,’ John said as he moved to another screen and watched the feed from the “Spy-Fly”. They saw it approaching a man in overalls, with the BT logo on his back, lying face down on the Tarmac. On the next screen along, sensor readings scrolled across the screen.

 

[‘Ah. He’s alive!’] they heard Pete call out. 

 

‘Oh thank God,’ Rose said with relief. John reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.

 

[‘Heart rate, 42 beats a minute. Respiration, 12 breaths a minute. Core body temperature, 36 degrees Celsius . . . Are you getting this Doc?’] Pete enquired.

 

‘Yeah, I’m getting it. It’s good news that he’s still alive. He’s a bit cold, but it is September. What’s the weather like there?’ He looked at the sensor readings for the air temperature. It showed 9 degrees Celcius.

 

[‘Cold with a mist,’] Pete reported.

 

‘He’s losin’ body heat to his surroundings,’ Rose reasoned. ‘If he stays there too long he’ll become hypothermic.’

 

‘Yeah, I know,’ John said, and then opened the mike. ‘Right. So these readings make it look like he’s in a coma.’

 

[‘A coma?’ What would put people into a coma?’] they heard Amy ask.

 

‘A number of drugs and gases. Narcoleptic seizures. Light and sound stimulated epilepsy and other neurological conditions,’ John reeled off.

 

[‘Okay. Let’s check the other vehicles then,’] they heard Pete say.

 

They saw the bus get closer on the screen and could see the heads of the few passengers that were on the bus, resting against the windows. Thermal imaging showed that the area of the window in contact with the passengers head was warmer than the rest. Also a brief area of condensation could be seen in front of one passenger as he breathed out. They then moved over to the UNIT truck and found the troops in a similar state. The head of the bread delivery driver was tilted back, and the sensitive microphone could hear him snoring.

 

Finally, they moved across the road to the police mountain bike, and the police officer lying on his side. When they got close, they could see he was shivering, and measured his core body temperature at just 33 degrees Celcius.

 

‘John. He’s in the first stage of hypothermia,’ Rose said urgently.

 

[‘We’ve got to help him,’] they heard Amy say.

 

[‘But how?’] Pete asked. [‘Look what happened to the BT guy.’]

 

‘He’s got a point,’ John said. ‘Who rescues the rescuer?’

 

[‘But we’ve got state-of-the-art protection and monitoring equipment,’] Amy reasoned.

 

‘She’s got a point too,’ Rose countered.

 

‘Yeah. But we don’t even know what has put these people in a coma. Our state-of-the-art protection could be as effective as a handkerchief over the mouth is against Ebola,’ John told her.

 

[‘Doc? Have you seen the readings on the police officer? We need to do something, and quickly,’] Pete pleaded.

 

‘Yeah, I’ve seen them,’ John told him. ‘The damp grass and mist is causing him to lose heat faster than the others. The “Fly” hasn’t detected any airborne chemical or biological agents. However, that doesn’t mean there aren’t any. There don’t seem to be any optical, sonic or electromagnetic emissions that could affect the nervous system.’

 

He closed the mike and looked at Rose as he ran his fingers through his hair. Rose recognised the look in his eyes. It was the look of a man who had to make a decision when there was no right answer.

 

She knelt down to hold his hand and stroke his face. ‘Hey. I trust you. I always have, and I always will. And I know you always do the right thing, even if it doesn’t always go the way you expect it to.’

 

He smiled, leaned forward, and kissed her on the lips. ‘Rose Tyler . . . My rock.’

 

He turned back to the screens. ‘We know the people are still alive, so the effect isn’t lethal. We don’t know if they’ll wake up again though, but I can’t see any reason why they wouldn’t. Okay. I’ve made my decision.’

 

He opened the mike. ‘Okay. One volunteer with sealed full body armour to make an attempt to rescue the police officer.’

 

[‘Thanks Doc,’] Pete replied. They could hear the relief in his voice.

 

They watched the internal camera feed as Amy put on her helmet, and Craig fastening her visor with undisguised concern.

 

[‘See you later,’] Craig said with a forced smile.

 

[‘Not if I see you first,’] Amy replied through the suit intercom. They saw her give him a nervous grin.

 

John and Rose looked at each other and smiled. They were both remembering those words from Krop Tor. They turned back to the screens to see the rear door lower and Amy walk outside. Now, on her helmet camera, they watched as she approached the BT engineer and stopped at what she perceived to be the demarcation of the safe zone.

 

[‘I’ll make a dash to the police officer and get him out, and then I’ll come back for the engineer,’] Amy told them.

 

[‘Copy that Amy. Good luck,’] Pete said.

 

They then watched in horror as the helmet camera bobbed up and down as she ran towards the fallen officer. The camera view tilted forward until it came to rest, looking at stalks of grass on the verge of the road.

 

‘NO!’ Rose gasped.

 

‘Oh what have I done?’ John asked himself.

 

[‘AMY!’] they heard Craig shout in the MIV.

 

[‘AGENT OWENS. FREEZE,’] Pete shouted.

 

‘John. We’ve got to help them,’ Rose told him.

 

John snapped out of his despair. ‘I know. It looks like WE rescue the rescuers. Contact the roof.’

 

[‘But it’s Amy. We can’t just leave her out there,’] Craig told Pete.

 

[‘I know son, but we can’t rescue her either.’]

 

‘No, but we can,’ Rose said to herself. ‘Sky Hawk One. This is Rose Smith in Despatch. Prep the ship for immediate departure, we have an agent down in the field. Over.’

 

[‘Copy that Rose. Running pre-flight checks now. What’s our destination. Over,’] the pilot responded.

 

‘Hampshire. I’m sending you the grid reference now. Over.’

 

[‘Got it. Get your team and gear together and we’ll be ready to go when you are.’]

 

‘Thanks Simon. They’ll be with you soon. Over and out.’

 

'Hang on Love,’ John said moving over to the Comms panel. 'Simon, it’s John. Do you have the robot explorer on board?’

 

['Roger that Doc. It's stowed in the hold ready for deployment. Over.’]

 

'Thanks Simon. I’ll be up shortly.’

 

'Hang on. Whatcha mean, “you’ll be up shortly?’ Rose asked. It was at times like this she had to remind him that he was no longer an active Special Operations Agent.

 

John looked past her shoulder to the empty Standby Room and gave a single nod with raised eyebrows. 'Who else are you going to send? The rest of the Watch are out on shouts.’

 

Rose looked over her shoulder and remembered that she had given the rest of the Watch their assignments. They had given up active service so that they would be there for their children. She knew first hand what it was like growing up with one parent missing. She turned to look back into her husbands gorgeous brown eyes.

 

‘But you know what you’re like at findin’ trouble,’ she reminded him.

 

‘Rose . . . Love. If I don’t go now, people are going to die. We don’t have the luxury of waiting for a team to return.’

 

She had a sudden thought that made her smile. She grabbed his lapels and pulled him into a kiss. ‘Okay. Go,’ she said after snogging him. ‘But stay out of trouble. Keep out of danger. And come back in one piece.’

 

He grabbed her lapels this time, and returned the snog. ‘I promise.’


	5. To The Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As usual, things don't quite go according to plan when the airship arrives.

**Chapter 5**

 

**To The Rescue**

  
  
  


Sky Hawk One was travelling west at an altitude of one thousand feet. John was at the control panel, updating the away team on their projected time of arrival, and checking if there was any change in the situation. He glanced over his shoulder at the single passenger sitting in one of the flight seats.

 

‘Sorry about this Andy. I could have handled this myself,’ he said to Captain McNab, head of Special Operations.

 

Andy chuckled. ‘That’s okay John. Your wife can be very persuasive. Besides, I don’t get out much these days, it’ll make a nice change to be in the thick of it.’

 

John gave him a boyish grin. ‘I think the idea was that there wouldn’t be any thick for us to be in the middle of.’

 

‘Where’s the fun in that?’ Andy said with a grin. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t tell “The Wife” if you don’t,’ he told him, using Rose’s Watch nickname.

 

[‘We are approaching the target area. Strap yourselves in. I’ll be making a pass over the area to look for a suitable lancing zone.’]

 

John joined Andy in the flight seats and buckled the harness. They felt the airship bank on its approach . . .

 

Suddenly, they were in level flight, and John could “hear” Rose shouting in his mind.

 

[‘JOHN! You’re back. Where the hell have you been?’]

 

He could feel her concern, but hadn’t got a clue what had caused it. [‘Rose? What’s up? I haven’t been anywhere. I’m here on the airship approaching Dunwich.’]

 

[‘John. You passed over Dunwich 3 minutes ago. It was like you suddenly disappeared from my mind.’]

 

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

  
  


‘Don’t worry Craig, it won’t come to that,’ Pete said as he put a comforting hand on his shoulder. They wouldn’t let Amy suffocate in her armoured suit.

 

‘Come on, let’s go outside and wait for the airship,’ Stuart suggested.

 

‘Yeah,’ Craig agreed. ‘I don’t want to leave her out there on her own. I know she won’t know I’m there . . . but I will.’

 

Pete slapped him on the back in an act of camaraderie. ‘All for one . . .’

 

‘And one for all,’ Craig and Stuart responded. They walked down the ramp and followed the path Amy had taken minutes before.

 

They stood at the boundary of the affected zone and looked over at their fallen comrade. Normally, when they waited for transport or specialist backup, they would joke or rib each other, or talk about the football that had been on the telly the night before. Today though, they stood in silence, like mourners at a funeral, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

 

After what seemed hours, but was really tens of minutes, they heard the drone of the airship’s jet engines. They looked out over the fields, and saw the delta shaped airframe of Sky Hawk One fade into view through the mist. It banked in a turn above them, then straighten out into level flight, and keep going over the village.

 

‘Where are they going?’ Craig asked. ‘There’s plenty of room to land in the field over there.’

 

‘Somethings wrong,’ Pete realised and ran back to the MIV. ‘Agent Davis to Sky Hawk One. Respond please. Over.’

 

There was no response from the comms unit. ‘This is agent Davis to Sky Hawk One. Respond. Over.’

 

‘Agent Sinclair to Despatch. Do you copy?’ Stuart called into the comms.

 

[‘Despatch. Irish, have you got a visual on the airship. Over,’] Jake asked.

 

‘Roger that Jake, but something’s wrong. It’s flown away. Over.’

 

[‘We’ve lost contact with them. I think you might be right. We’re tracking them on a straight heading away from your location. Over.’]

 

‘It sounds like the dead man's switch autopilot has kicked in,’ Stuart theorised. ‘The pilot must be incapacitated.’

 

‘Yeah, and it happened just as they flew over the border of the affected zone,’ Craig realised.

 

[‘Copy that. We’re asking Flight Control to initiate the remote pilot override. The standby pilot on the roof should be able to bring them home. Over,’] Jake informed them.

 

‘But what about Amy?’ Craig asked. ‘She’s still out there, running out of oxygen, and the Doc had an idea how to rescue her.’

 

[‘I know Craig. We’ll get back to you as soon . . . Hold on. Rose says she’s back in contact with the Doc. Standby. Over.’]

 

They heard the drone of the airship again about a mile away over the fields. It approached slowly and started to descend. 

 

‘Jake. It’s Pete. The airship has returned and is starting its descent. Over.’

 

[‘Copy that Pete. We are back in contact with them. It seems they had technical problems as they flew over the village. Over.’]

 

‘Copy that Jake. Over and out,’ Pete said. ‘Stuart. Nip back down the lane and get that gate open to the field.’

 

‘I’m on it,’ Stuart told him and started jogging back towards the road block.

 

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

  
  


[‘Repeat. Torchwood Despatch to Sky Hawk One. Do you copy? Over.’] Jake’s worried voice called out in the cockpit of the airship.

 

‘Sky Hawk One to Despatch. We copy you. Over,’ the pilot, Simon responded.

 

[‘You had us worried there for a while. What happened? Over.’]

 

‘Not sure. I was initiating a turn over the target, and then found I was flying on a straight course away from it. Over.’

 

[‘That fits with what we saw on radar. We had you as unresponsive for three minutes. Over.’]

 

‘Copy that Despatch. I’m making a wide circle around the target to gain my approach vector. Over and out.’

 

John used his ear comms to contact the pilot. ‘Simon. This effect isn’t just an area on the ground, it’s a volume above it. You need to maintain a distance of at least mile from the centre of the village.’

 

[‘Copy that Doc. Adjusting course now.’]

 

[‘Rose,’] John thought to his wife. [‘This effect might be being beamed down from space, forming a cylinder or a cone around the area. Have a look would you.’]

 

[‘Good idea. I’ll get Chrissie to start searching. Keep in touch.’]

 

‘So we experienced what the people on the ground are experiencing at the moment?’ Andy asked as the airship started its descent.

 

‘Sort of yeah,’ John replied. ‘Although at the moment, they’re not experiencing anything. It’s only when we flew out of the zone of influence that we realised anything had happened.’

 

[‘On final approach,’] Simon announced over the intercom. [‘100 feet . . . 50 . . . 30 . . . 10 . . . Contact. You are good to go.’]

 

‘Thanks Simon,’ Andy said as they unbuckled their harnesses and stood up. ‘Smooth as ever.’ 

 

The interior layout of the cabin was identical to that of an MIV, with seats one side and control desk the other. At the rear was a door which lowered to form a ramp. Andy disabled the safety lock and activated the door mechanism. John went to an equipment locker to the left side of the ramp and opened the door. He reached inside and removed a remote control unit, the type used by hobbyists all over the world. When he activated it, he pushed one of the joysticks forwards, and a six wheeled robot resembling one of the martian rovers, trundled out.

 

‘You expecting some unexploded ordnance or alien artefacts then?’ Andy asked with raised eyebrows.

 

‘Not exactly,’ John said evasively. ‘You’ll see. All aboard for Dunwich. Toot toot.’

 

John used one of the broad tyres as a step and sat on top of the robot behind the column which contained the cameras and sensing equipment. Andy grinned and shook his head, before climbing aboard behind John. The robot rolled down the ramp and headed for the corner of the field where they could see Stuart Sinclair holding open the gate.

 

‘Morning Doc,’ Stuart greeted as they approached. ‘Morning Boss. Didn’t expect to see you here.’

 

Andy gave a lopsided smile. ‘Just here as . . .’ He was going to say “baby sitter”, but saw the glance John gave him. ‘. . . Backup. The rest of the Watch are still out on assignment.’

 

‘You got room for one more on there?’ Stuart asked with a grin as the robot rolled onto the road and he closed the gate.

 

‘Hop on the back and you can show us the way,’ John said.

 

‘Thanks.’ Stuart jumped onto the back with his legs dangling. 

 

‘Ooh look. It’s the dishy doctor from the Torchwood show,’ one of the women bystanders said.

 

‘Yeah. I bet he’ll sort this out,’ another said.

 

‘Hang a right Doc and it’s just around the bend down there,’ Stuart directed.

 

The robot started to move, and John waved at his fanclub. Andy had his face turned away as the spectators filmed the proceedings on their smartphones. This was the most exciting thing that had happened around here in . . . well, centuries.

 

John drove the robot past the MIV and on to where Pete and Craig were standing vigil. They turned and watched with puzzled frowns as the robot approached. John jumped off, almost fizzing with energy. Andy and Stuart jumped to the ground in a more controlled and reserved manner.

 

‘Right. No time to lose, Lautrec,’ John said, activating the arms of the robot, which were folded in front like a crabs pincers. ‘Not that any of you are named Lautrec . . . Met him once,’ he said distractedly as he looked at the display screen on the remote unit. ‘Tiny chap he was. Liked his absinthe I can tell you.’

 

‘Doc?’ Pete asked. ‘What are you doing?’

 

John glanced up at him. ‘Isn’t it obvious? No . . . maybe not. Well, we know that anything with a nervous system that crosses this line falls into a coma. And we have recently found out on the flight over here that the effect is instantaneous and reversible. We also know that technology works in there because the “Spy-Fly” worked perfectly, which means the only reason the technology in there isn’t working is because there is nobody awake to use it. So, if we want to rescue someone from inside the zone . . .’

 

Craig’s eyes lit up and he pointed at John. ‘You send in a robot to bring them out of the zone so they can wake up!’

 

‘Nail on the head,’ John said as he watched Amy get closer on the screen. ‘Oh, and Pete. You’d better call for an ambulance. The police officer in there is in a bad way.’

 

Pete went to the MIV to call emergency services as the robot reached Amy. John extended the robot arm and maneuvered the grabber to grasp the armoured ankle of her boot.

 

‘Right. Here goes,’ he said tensely as he slowly reversed the robot. 

 

He could see Amy’s body slide over the Tarmac as he dragged her back to safety. Craig was leaning as far forward as he dared as he saw the robot and his partner approach. The robot passed him, and as Amy’s head reached his boot, her eyes flickered open.

 

[‘Craig? What y’doin’ in the zone? Has the effect worn off?’] she asked in confusion.

 

Craig released the seal on her helmet and lifted it off her head so that she could see where she was. ‘Hang on . . . I’m back where I started,’ she realised and then saw John and Andy. ‘But . . . What’s going on?’

 

She saw the robot release her ankle and set off to rescue the police officer and realised that John had rescued her. ‘Oh. Right. So I didn’t make it. The suit didn’t protect me.’

 

‘No,’ John said. ‘But it was a noble effort Agent Williams.’

 

They rescued the police officer, who drowsily woke up. His teeth were rattling as his body shivered. Andy wrapped him in a foil blanket and gave him a hot drink from the MIV to start warming his core temperature. The paramedics arrived and took him off to Trayne Memorial Hospital. The BT engineer also got a foil blanket and hot drink, just to warm him up and make him comfortable, and he too was taken to hospital for a check up.

 

With the success of the robot rescuer, John got creative. They reached the tow line from the winch on the front of the MIV, and John used the robot to attach it to the tow hook on the UNIT truck. Very slowly, the powerful winch pulled the truck out of the zone of influence, and a platoon of very confused soldiers woke up. They then dragged out the bread delivery van, and used the 3 ton UNIT truck to drag out the bus. A fleet of ambulances arrived to take the civilians to hospital to be checked out.

 

John checked the UNIT soldiers with a check up from his sonic screwdriver and put them to work.

 

‘Now you know what to do,’ John told Craig and Amy, ‘I want you to take the robot around to the other side of the village and pull out the other vehicles with UNIT’s help.’

 

‘Will do Doc,’ Craig said, happy that he and his now fully recovered partner would be able to do something positive to help.

 

‘Good. I’m going into the MIV to fly a “Spy-Fly” into the village to see what I can find,’ John said and headed for the ramp of the MIV.

 

‘Looking for anything specific?’ Andy asked as he joined him at the console.

 

‘The old Abbey,’ John told him. ‘That’s the centre of the circle, but anything interesting on the way will also be good.’

 

The “Spy-Fly” flew along Ottley Road, past a modern stone cottage on the right that they could just see before the lane curved to the right. The cottage had a dry stone wall in front of it with wooden gates allowing access to the driveway. As the Fly continued around the curve, the dry stone wall carried on along the grass verge to a collection of semi-detached single storey cottages.

 

The main street through the village went past The Scythe and Stone Inn, where John saw the villager he had seen on the satellite image. His face was grey, with a bluish tinge to it. His lips were almost black. It was obvious that he was dead. If he hadn’t banged his head on the steps of  the pub when he fell, then he probably succumbed to hypothermia John theorised. There had been one more villager outside, in a back garden. John presumed that he would also be dead.

 

John steered the Fly to the right into Hickham Lane, which led to the Abbey ruins. It passed the smouldering remains of a cottage on the right, which a resident of Oppley had reported as being on fire. With a shiver down his spine, he wondered how many people had died in that cottage whilst they were in a coma. It was little comfort to know that they wouldn’t have suffered.

 

He reached the Abbey ruins on the left, and started a systematic search of the grounds. The Fly weaved in and out of half standing stone walls and buttresses. Over grass, which covered the remains of tiled floors which held magnificent mosaics. It followed lines of stones which were once interior walls, and now resembled teeth erupting from grassy gums.

 

The “Spy-Fly” completed it’s search grid, and John parked it on the remnants of a stone wall. He had exhausted the tiny power pack and it didn’t have enough charge to get back to the MIV. John sighed and rubbed his eyes to try and relieve the strain in them.

 

[‘No luck then Love?’] Rose asked in his head. He felt her warm glow soothing the tension in his head.

 

[‘Nah. I really need to get in there with the sonic screwdriver,’] John told her. [‘But obviously, I can’t do that. If I got in there with the TARDIS, there’s still no guarantee the the extrapolator shields will filter out whatever it is. Did you find anything in orbit?’]

 

[‘No. And we’ve tracked high altitude commercial flights over the village with no reported ill effects,’] Rose replied.

 

[‘Ah. That makes me think that this effect is a dome over the village, so it probably only extends a mile at its highest point.’]

 

[‘So where’s the generator then?’]

 

[‘Well, it could be under the Abbey. Don’t forget, it was mysteriously closed in 1493. Something could be buried there, lying dormant until something activated it again,’] John speculated.

 

Once again, Rose could follow her husbands thoughts through their link. [‘You’re thinkin’ somethin’ at The Grange might have set it off.’]

 

[‘Could be. It’s not far up the lane. There again, it could be visitors using some kind of cloaking device.’]

 

[‘The “Spy-Fly” would have run into it if it had been an optical cloak,’] Rose realised. [‘So you’re thinkin’ temporal shift, like the Daleks used in the Medusa Cascade. Hide your ship a second out of sync and get up to all sorts of mischief with no chance of gettin’ caught.’]

 

[‘Ah, you know me so well,’] John thought with a smile.

 

[‘Got no choice Love. I’m stuck with you in me ‘ead for the rest of me life . . . and I wouldn’t have it any other way’] she replied with a grin.

 

[‘I don’t think there’s a lot more I can do here Love. I’ll hitch a ride back on the airship with Andy, Craig and Amy. Pete’s staying to hand over the assignment to White Watch with Stuart.]

 

[‘Okay Love. See you soon.’]

 

Delores the DeLorian pulled up at the steps to Tyler Mansion, and the “gull wing” doors lifted up. John and Rose climbed out and walked up the few steps, where Alistair, the Tyler’s House Manager, was waiting for them.

 

‘Good afternoon Misses Smith, Doctor Smith,’ he greeted them formally.

 

‘Hi Alistair,’ Rose said, kissing him on the cheek as she passed him.

 

John held his fist up for his usual fist bump greeting. ‘Afternoon.’

 

‘Dad, we saw you on the news!’ Jason said before Jackie and Pete could greet his parents as they walked into the living room.

 

‘Did you?’ John asked with a smile.

 

‘Afternoon you two,’ Jackie and Pete said. ‘Yeah. Pete saw on the Torchwood bulletin board that somethin’ was happenin’ in that village, so we put the news channel on.’

 

‘Ooh, let’s see what they’re sayin’,’ Rose said as she sat down next to her mother. Alistair and Alice’s five year old daughter Lillie, came over and sat on her lap. ‘Hello Sweetheart. You come to have a cuddle with your Auntie Rose have ya?’

 

‘Here, I’ll bring it up on the red button,’ Pete told them as he operated the TV remote. Jenny, one of the Tylers house staff, brought in the tea tray and placed it on the low table in front of them.

 

[‘. . . Were called to the sleepy village of Dunwich this morning, after the Fire Brigade lost contact with firefighters who responded to reports of a fire in the village. Nothing was heard from police officers and UNIT soldiers who were sent to investigate,’] the reporter said from in front of the police cordon. [‘A team from the now famous Torchwood Institute arrived to investigate and managed to find the firefighters, police and soldiers from behind the cordon, as well as a number of civilians.’]

 

Rose snorted a laugh as John gave the camera a cheeky wave as he, Andy and Stuart rode past on the robot.

 

[‘They were taken to the local hospital in Trayne, where some were treated for mild hypothermia, but all were discharged after tests. Everyone we interviewed said they had no recollection of the event. A police spokesperson has confirmed that a situation is still ongoing in the village, but will not comment on speculations that there is some kind of siege in progress. Torchwood agents are still at the scene, presumably monitoring the situation.’]

 

‘So what’s goin’ on there?’ Jackie asked.

 

‘We’ve no idea,’ John replied. ‘Anyone who passes an invisible line, falls into a coma. We’ve looked around the village remotely, but there’s nothing obvious there.’

 

‘I saw the report that Amy was affected when she attempted a rescue,’ Pete said. ‘Is she all right?’

 

‘Yeah, she’s fine,’ Rose told him. ‘Once John dragged her out of the zone with the robot, she woke up again with no ill effects.’

 

‘And they’re all still asleep?’ Jackie asked.

 

John nodded. ‘Yep. Nothing we can do until they wake up. We’ve rescued everyone who were in the vehicles . . . They were the ones on the news. I could really do with getting in there with my sonic screwdriver.’

 

‘Well, tomorrow’s another day,’ Rose said philosophically.


	6. The Vigil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John explores the village with his sonic screwdriver when something unexpected happens.

**Chapter 6**

 

**The Vigil**

  
  
  


The White Watch team had been tasked with continuing to explore the village with “Spy-Flies”, using the robot if necessary to aid the comatose villagers and keep them safe. They didn’t want any more people dying in house fires. They used the robot to retrieve the body from in front of the Inn. 

 

The man’s driving license said his name was Harry Crankhart. An ambulance was called, and the body was taken away. By midnight, there had been no change in conditions. Lights in houses which had been switched on the previous night, and had been on all day, were now visible in the darkness and gave an eerie, ghostly atmosphere to the deserted streets. 

 

Green Watch arrived not long after midnight and relieved White Watch so that they could go home and get some sleep. They’d brought a replacement battery pack for the robot and swapped them over, putting the existing pack on charge. They then continued to patrol the village, looking for any indications that the village had woken up.

 

The next morning, Pete and Jackie arrived early at Northumberland Place to do the school run, so that John and Rose could make their way to Canary Wharf together. The previous evening, John had been working in his workshop on an idea to get his sonic screwdriver into the “coma zone” so that he could scan the Abbey ruins.

 

By 08:00, Julia “Van” De Graff, Jake “The Peg” Simmonds, John “The Doc” Smith, and Camera Director David Rea, had arrived to take over from Green Watch, who had reported to Despatch that there was no change overnight. John was literally bouncing on his toes with impatience, keen to get started.

 

‘Nothing to report. Oh, except for a Barn Owl that dropped out of the sky just over there when it flew into the “coma zone”,’ Tom “Flash” Gordon reported, pointing to the field on the other side of the drystone wall. ‘We sent the robot through the gate to pick him up and bring him back out of the zone.’

 

‘Was he all right?’ Julia asked.

 

‘Well. He shook his head, ruffled his feathers, and looked at us as though we owed him an explanation. Hissed at us when he realised he wasn’t going to get one, and took off into the night. Away from the zone I might add. Quick learner that one,’ Tom said with a deadpan delivery. The team laughed at his descriptions.

 

‘Where’s the robot now?’ John asked. 

 

‘Parked in front of the MIV, ready to go,’ Tom reported.

 

John reached into his pocket and took out his sonic screwdriver, and a bracket he’d worked on the previous evening. ‘Molto bene. Right, off you go then. Enjoy your sleep.’

 

‘Thanks guys. Don’t get too bored. Oh, and if you want some entertainment, try throwing some treats over there when a local cat comes along,’ Tom said.

 

‘TOM!’ You didn’t?’ Julia asked with alarm.

 

He gave her a “what’s wrong with that?” kind of look, but couldn’t hold it. His face broke into a grin. ‘Nah. But trust me, by 4 o’clock in the morning, we’d considered it. Good night,’ he said, and headed to the Range Rover with his field partner.

 

Jake was still chuckling as the Range Rover drove off. ‘You should see him on an open mike night at the pub. He’s Torchwood’s answer to Jack Dee.’

 

John laughed in agreement and picked up the remote unit for the robot. He extended the arm and attached the sonic to the arm with the bracket. He drove the robot down the street past the Scythe and Stone, and on to the triangular Green with the five elms and white-railed pond. He drove past the war  memorial and turned right into Hickham Lane towards the Abbey.

 

The drystone wall on the left had a wide gateway and a sign.

 

**St Accius' Abbey**

**Established: 720 AD**

**Disestablished: 1493 AD**

 

At the edge of the stone ruins, he used one of the robot’s hands to set and activate his sonic screwdriver. He could see the holographic display projected above the sonic through the robot’s camera. As he weaved slowly through the ancient archways and past the time ravaged walls, the display told him that something was messing with the temporal fabric of the local area.

 

‘GOTCHA!’ he exclaimed, which made Julia and Jake jump.

 

‘Whatcha got Doc?’ Jake asked.

 

John looked at him with a stunned expression. ‘Ooh I like that. “Whatcha got Doc”. Kind of rolls of the tongue . . . If you’d said “what’s up Doc”, you could have been Bug’s Bunny.’

 

Julia rolled her eyes. ‘John! What have you got?’

 

He paused in thought. ‘No. That’s not as good that one.’ Julia glared at him. ‘Eh? Oh. The sonic. It’s detected a temporal anomaly.’

 

‘And in English, that means . . ?’ Jake asked.

 

‘Something in the Abbey is hiding; a second out of sync with the rest of the universe.’ He saw the blank expressions on their faces.

 

‘Okay. Light reflects off the stones of the ruins and hits your retina so that you can see them. Right?’

 

‘Yeah. We’ve got that,’ Jake said.

 

‘Now, imagine you put a large object in front of those stones. The light from the stones doesn’t reach your retinas so you can’t see them.’

 

‘Obviously,’ Julia agreed.

 

‘But what if you shifted the object a second ahead of the stones behind it,’ John asked. Jake and Julia shrugged. ‘The stones, the light reflecting off them, and your retinas are all in sync. The objects atoms are a second out of sync, so the light from the stones go right through it.’

 

‘So you don’t see it,’ Julia said.

 

‘But it’s not only light,’ John continued. ‘The atoms of your fingers would pass right through it as well, making it . . .’

 

‘Completely undetectable,’ Jake finished for him. ‘Bloody hell!’

 

Julia had a wide eyed, open mouthed expression.

 

‘Yeah. I know. Impressive isn’t it,’ John said with a smug grin.

 

‘No,’ Jake said, pointing past him. ‘Over there.’

 

John turned to look where he was pointing. ‘Bloody hell!’

 

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

  
  


[‘Rose. They’re awake!’] John exclaimed in his wife’s head.

 

[‘What?’]

 

[‘The people in the village. They’re awake!’]

 

[‘Brilliant! Do you want backup?’]

 

[‘That would be nice, yes. One of them looks as though he could do with a visit from Alice and her team,’] John replied, referring to Alice Dimaggio, the head of Psychology at Torchwood.

 

[‘Okay. I’ll mobilise the troops, contact emergency services, and contact UNIT to get some boots on the ground.’]

 

[‘Thanks Love. I’m going to be a bit busy here. See you later.’]

 

[‘Yeah. See you later Love. Bye.’]

 

Rose saw Angel “Wings” Coulthard, the alien agent who had a set of bat-like wings, approaching her office at speed. She stood and walked around her desk as Angel knocked and entered.

 

‘Rose. I am sorry for the intrusion, but I thought you would want to know,’ she said excitedly.

 

‘Sorry to steal your thunder there Angel, but I know. They’ve woken up,’ Rose said with a smile as she walked out of the office, heading for the Hub.

 

Angel looked puzzled. ‘But there is no thunder forecast. Just cloud with intermittent showers.’

 

Rose gave a single laugh. Because Angel had learnt English so quickly, she’d forgotten that she still took some of the sayings literally. 

 

‘Sorry Angel. That saying means that someone says something that you were going to say before you can say it . . . If you see what I mean,’ Rose said uncertainly.

 

‘Ah. I understand,’ Angel said.

 

Rose strode into the Despatch Office. ‘Amy. Could you get me Colonel Erisa Magambo on the line please, and then contact Hampshire emergency services. They’ll need ambulances and police at Dunwich.’

 

‘Sure, Rose. The Colonel will be on line 5 when she answers,’ Amy told her.

 

Rose put on a headset and heard the “burring” of the ring tone.

 

[‘Colonel Magambo,’] the cultured voice announced. [‘Is that you Rose?’]

 

‘Yes Erisa. Just updating you as promised. Dunwich has woken up,’ Rose told her.

 

[‘Oh, excellent. How did your team manage it?’]

 

‘Well, I’m not sure they did manage it. I haven’t got any details yet, that’ll have to wait for the debrief. But knowin’ my husband, I wouldn’t be surprised if he provoked a reaction some how.’

 

Erisa laughed politely. [‘Ah yes. Doctor Smith’s reputation is well known to us at UNIT. Well, however it was achieved, UNIT thanks you and your team for what you have done.’]

 

‘You’re welcome Erisa. I hope on another occasion that we will be able to meet face to face,’ Rose replied. She was curious to see if Erisa in “Pete’s World” was the same woman she had met in “Donna’s World” when Donna had the “time beetle thing” on her back.

 

[‘I look forward to it. Until then, I’ll say goodbye.’]

 

Erisa hung up and Rose removed the headset. She then tuned in to her husband. [‘So how did you manage it then?’]

 

[‘Me? I didn’t do anything. They just woke up on their own . . . Wellll, I did find something hiding in a temporal pocket. Maybe I spooked them,’] John thought to her.

 

[‘The idea of using the sonic on the robot worked then.’]

 

[‘Like a dream. But it could be that whoever it was, had finished what they were doing and left of their own accord. I’m just on my way to the Abbey to get my sonic and see if I can find anything else. After that, I’ll call in at The Grange and see what they do there.’]

 

[‘Okay Love. Be nice, cos I’ve just had a nice chat with Colonel Magambo and she’s very appreciative of our efforts at Dunwich,’] Rose thought.

 

[‘Always nice to be appre . . . What d’you mean “be nice”? I’m always nice,’] John thought indignantly.

 

[‘If you say so,’] Rose replied teasingly. [‘See ya later. Bye.’]

 

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

  
  


After the initial surprise of seeing a young man staggering towards them looking disheveled and confused, the Torchwood team sprang into action. Jake ran towards the man, and Julia went to the MIV to grab the first aid kit. John followed Jake towards the villager, with David filming from behind.

 

‘What . . ? What the hell is going on?’ the man asked running his fingers through his disheveled hair and looking up at the sky. ‘What time is it? It should be night time.’

 

[‘Rose. They’re awake!’] John thought to Rose.

 

[‘What?’] Rose thought back.

 

Jake took out his scanner and monitored his vital signs. ‘It’s 9:27 on the morning of the 25th of September.’

 

[‘The people in the village. They’re awake!’] John thought with a grin.

 

‘9.27 . . ? Morning . . ? The 25th? Friday?’ the man repeated as though it was impossible. ‘It was twenty past ten at night. And it was Wednesday. How could I lose two days?’

 

[‘Brilliant! Do you want backup?’]

 

[‘That would be nice, yes. One of them looks as though he could do with a visit from Alice and her team,’] John replied, looking at the man in front of him.

 

[‘Okay. I’ll mobilise the troops, contact emergency services, and contact UNIT to get some boots on the ground.’]

 

[‘Thanks Love. I’m going to be a bit busy here. See you later.’]

 

[‘Yeah. See you later Love. Bye.’]

 

John reached them and glanced at the display on Jake’s scanner. ‘We’re not sure. What we do know is every animal within a mile radius has been in a coma. Have you got any injuries? Any aches or pains?’

 

‘Er, no. I had pins and needles in my feet when I first stood up,’ the man said.

 

‘That would be from lying in the same position for nearly 36 hours,’ John explained.

 

‘That would explain why my joints are so stiff then.’

 

‘Yep. Your core temperature is near normal though,’ John said with a frown.

 

‘Ah. That would be the central heating. We’ve got it on a timer,’ the man told him.

 

‘That’s fortunate. Oh, John Smith by the way. This is Jake Simmonds, the guy with the camera is David Rea, and the lady approaching is Julia De Graff. We’re from . . .’

 

‘Torchwood,’ the man interrupted. ‘I recognise you from the program.’

 

‘That’s right. That’s why David’s here. He’s filming for the show,’ John said. ‘Probably best if you ignore him for the moment.’

 

‘Erm. Richard Haywood,’ the man said, trying to shake hands with John, but not quite achieving it. ‘Sorry. Fingers are numb.’

 

‘Right. That’ll improve with time. I’d offer to stimulate the nerve endings but a robot’s got my sonic screwdriver. Which reminds me, I’ve got a date with an anomaly.’ John turned to Jake and Julia. 

 

‘I’m going to the Abbey. Get Richard back to his house.’ He turned to Richard. ‘Is that first cottage yours?’

 

Richard nodded. ‘Yes. But I’m fine. Honest. I want to help. My wife will look after the kids.’

 

John turned back to his colleagues. ‘Okay. First volunteer then. Next, you need to find the elderly residents, and the residents that don’t have central heating. They’ll be the most vulnerable to hypothermia.’

 

Julia looked to Richard for advice. ‘Do you know the villagers well?’

 

‘Er, a few of them. We’ve not lived here long. Moved from London a few years ago,’ he explained.

 

‘Who would know then?’ Jake asked.

 

‘That would be the Zellabys at Kyle Manor,’ Richard told him.

 

‘Right. So, Richard. You go and round up anybody you know who is fit enough and start knocking on doors. Call it a neighbourhood watch,’ John instructed before turning to Jake. ‘Next. Jakey Boy, see if you can open up the Village Hall and get some tea on the go. Some of these people are going to need hot drinks inside them.’

 

‘Ah, I can help you with that one,’ Richard said. ‘The Reverend Leebody at the Vicarage has the key to the Village Hall.’

 

‘Off you go then Jake,’ John said with a grin. ‘Julia. You pop up to the Manor and find out who the most vulnerable are. We’ll all meet up at the Village Hall when we’re done.’

 

‘Hang on.’ Jake said. ‘You don’t even work in Special Operations anymore. You can’t give out the orders.’

 

‘Quite right,’ John said. ‘As the brains of the operation then, what do you suggest . . . Julia?’

 

Julia and David spurted a laugh. ‘I think our scientific consultant’s plan was well considered and practical. I say we go with that one.’ 

 

John grinned and winked at her. ‘Allons-y,’ he said, and ran off down the road towards the Abbey.

 

[‘So how did you manage it then?’] Rose thought in his head as he jogged along.

 

[‘Me? I didn’t do anything. They just woke up on their own . . . Wellll, I did find something hiding in a temporal pocket. Maybe I spooked them,’] John thought back.

 

[‘The idea of using the sonic on the robot worked then.’]

 

[‘Like a dream. But it could be that whoever it was, had finished what they were doing and left of their own accord. I’m just on my way to the Abbey to get my sonic and see if I can find anything else. After that, I’ll call in at The Grange and see what they do there.’]

 

[‘Okay Love. Be nice, cos I’ve just had a nice chat with Colonel Magambo and she’s very appreciative of our efforts at Dunwich.’]

 

[‘Always nice to be appre . . . What d’you mean “be nice”? I’m always nice,’] John thought indignantly.

 

[‘If you say so,’] Rose replied teasingly. [‘See ya later. Bye.’]

 

When he arrived at the ruins, he found the robot and patted it on its “head” where the cameras were housed. He removed his sonic screwdriver from the bracket, kissed it, and started scanning the ground. 

 

‘Damn!’ John exclaimed as he turned in circles with the sonic held out at arm’s length. Whatever had been there had gone, and left no residue, no traces. 


	7. The Grange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the village awake, John pays a visit to the Grange to investigate.

**Chapter 7**

  
  


**The Grange**

  
  
  


Professor Arthur Crimm, OBE, Director of the UNIT Research Facility at The Grange in Dunwich, awoke in a state of confusion. He lived in the village as a tenant of one of landowner Gordon Zellaby's cottages, which was paid for by UNIT. When his eyes fluttered open, the first thing he noticed was the hint of daylight behind the closed curtains. It should have been 10 o’clock at night.

 

The next thing he noticed was that he was lying face down on the floor, with an overturned cup of drinking chocolate an arms length away from him, and an apparently dry pool of chocolate staining the carpet. He stirred with difficulty, and gave out a sound like a half-groan before shivering uncontrollably. He did not think he had ever felt quite so cold. It went right through so that every fibre ached with it.

 

“Have I had a stroke”, he thought to himself, and set out to test the hypothesis. Although stiff and numb, he moved his right arm and reached towards the cup. He couldn’t feel the cup but assumed that was due to the pins and needles in his fingers. His left arm was worse. His forearm was under his body and the blood supply had been restricted. When he rolled onto his back, his hand and fingers burned agonisingly with the return of blood and sensation.

 

‘Not a stroke then,’ he said to himself with an aching and reluctant jaw. Another sensation that clamoured for his attention came from his bladder, which felt as though it would explode if it wasn't soon emptied.

 

With his elbows, and then his hands, he managed to sit up. Then, using the armchair, he managed to get to his knees, and finally to his feet. He stood for a moment as the pins and needles in his feet subsided, and the feeling returned to his stiff legs. He managed to part crawl and part haul himself up the stairs to the bathroom, where he emptied his bladder and suddenly felt a whole lot better.

 

He found that coming down the stairs was far easier than going up, and by the time he had reached the bottom, he felt ready to venture outside. He put on his long, warm overcoat that was hanging by the front door, selected a stout walking cane from the umbrella stand, and set off for the short walk up the lane to The Grange. He stopped at the next cottage along, and looked at its smouldering shell. What the hell had been going on?

 

He passed the entrance to the Abbey, and noticed that further along the lane there was a tall, thin man with unruly hair, who was wearing a long brown coat over a brown pinstripe suit, and incongruously what appeared to be white plimsolls. He didn’t recall having seen this person in the village before, and wondered if he might know what had happened.

 

‘EXCUSE ME . . . YOU THERE,’ he shouted. The man stopped and turned to look at him, his hands in the pockets of his coat.

 

‘Oh, hello there,’ John said cheerfully. ‘How are you?’

 

‘Stiff and confused. But otherwise quite well,’ Arthur replied. ‘And you would be?’

 

John took his Torchwood ID out of his pocket and held it up as Arthur approached. ‘I would be Doctor John Smith. Scientific Consultant to the Torchwood Institute . . . And you?’

 

‘Oh yes. You’re that scientist fellow on the television. Arthur Crimm, Director of the Research Facility at The Grange here in Dunwich,’ Arthur told him.

 

John gave  him an open mouthed smile ‘Oh brilliant! I was just on my way up there to see if everything is all right. We could walk together and you could tell me what kind of research you do there.’

 

‘We can certainly walk together,’ Arthur agreed, setting off towards the stone bordered gateway. ‘But I’m afraid our research is classified.’

 

John pulled a face. ‘Classified, shmassified. I’ve got clearance.’

 

Arthur started up the gravelled drive which went straight towards the grey stone building, and then formed a circle around a tree in front of the gabled entrance. ‘I doubt an employee of a privately owned institute on the television would have security clearance for a UNIT facility,’ Arthur scoffed.

 

‘Oh I don’t know,’ John said, scratching the back of his neck. ‘We’ll see. But I can give you a hand and see if everyone is all right can’t I?’

 

‘Er, yes. That would be very public spirited of you. Thank you.’

 

Inside the grand house were men and women of various ages wandering about discussing the current situation and trying to work out what was going on. Some were in UNIT uniforms, whilst others were in their own clothing.

 

Arthur approached a man in uniform. ‘Sergeant Decker. What’s our status?’

 

‘Ah, Professor. Good to see you Sir. Were you affected too?’

 

Whilst the Sergeant updated the professor, John wandered through the large reception hall, looking at the portraits on the walls and appreciating the Victorian architecture. He saw a woman with short auburn hair in her early thirties, wearing jeans, baggy sweatshirt and trainers. 

 

‘Hello,’ he said with his charming smile. ‘I’m Doctor John Smith. How is everybody here?’ he asked as an opening gambit.

 

‘Yes. Of course you are,’ she replied, matching his smile and shaking his hand. ‘Doctor Margaret Haxby, and as far as we can tell, everyone is okay. We seem to have lost a day and a half though. Do you know anything about that? As Professor Crimm has just arrived, I’m presuming that what ever affected us wasn’t just localised to The Grange.’

 

‘Yep. Your reasoning is sound. An area in a one mile radius around the village was affected. Everything with a nervous system was put into a coma,’ John told her.

 

‘Really? Wow. What could have caused that?’

 

‘Absolutely no idea. We’ve been camped at the edge of the effect trying to find out, but we’ve drawn a  blank.’ He looked around as though searching for something. ‘Anywhere we can get a cup of tea? I’m gasping,’ he asked, redirecting the conversation.

 

‘Er, yeah, sure. There’s a cafeteria through here.’ She led him through a doorway into a room with rows of tables and chairs.

 

Many of the resident staff were warming themselves up with hot drinks and tucking into packets of digestive biscuits. Margaret collected two styrofoam cups of tea and led John to a table.

 

‘Thanks,’ John said as he sipped the tea. ‘So what do you do here then Margaret?’

 

‘Ah. I’m afraid the research we do here is classified?’ she told him.

 

‘Oh I know that. Arthur’s already given me the party line. No, I mean what do YOU do. What’s your doctorate in?’

 

‘Oh I see. Quantum physics.’

 

John raised his eyebrows in delight. ‘Oh brilliant! That’s one of my favourite doctorates,’ he told her and she raised a skeptical eyebrow. ‘No. seriously. I’m just itching to open that box to see if the cat is still alive.’

 

Margaret laughed at the reference. ‘Your favourite doctorate? You mean you have more than one?’

 

‘What? Me? Wellll yeah. Lots of ‘em. That’s why I came here to investigate.’

 

‘And you were unsuccessful,’ she added.

 

‘Oh I wouldn’t say that. I mean, at first we thought it was something you were doing here that caused the effect,’ he explained.

 

‘Here? You thought it was us?’

 

‘Why not? You and Arthur have both said it’s classified. But then I worked out that the epicentre was in the grounds of the Abbey.’

 

‘The Abbey? But what’s at the Abbey that could cause everyone to fall into a coma?’ Margaret asked.

 

‘Well, nothing now,’ John told her, pulling his earlobe. ‘I think I might have scared it away, and that’s when you all woke up.’

 

Margaret frowned. ‘But how could you have been at the Abbey and still be awake? Did you find a way to protect yourself?’

 

‘No. I sent in a robot and used that as my eyes and hands. One of our agents tried to go in and rescue a police officer who was in danger, but her sealed armour was useless.’

 

‘Is she all right? Who was it?’ Margaret asked with concern.

 

‘Amy Williams. She’s fine. I pulled her out with the robot.’

 

‘Oh, “Legs”. I like her. I love the banter she has with Craig,’ she said with a coy smile.

 

‘You watch the show?’ John said with a grin.

 

‘Of course. That’s how I knew who you were. It’s been a real thrill to meet you.’

 

‘And it’s been a pleasure to meet you Margaret,’ he said finishing his tea. ‘But duty calls, and I have to go and find Professor Crimm. I’ve got a few unanswered questions that I really need answered.’

 

‘If it’s about The Grange, he won’t be able to answer them,’ Margaret told him as he headed for the door.

 

‘We’ll see . . . We’ll see,’ John said as he walked away.

 

‘Sergeant Decker wasn’t it?’ John said to the UNIT soldier.

 

‘Yes Sir . . . And you are?’ Decker enquired.

 

John took out his ID. ‘Doctor John Smith. I came  here with the professor. He asked for my help. Do you know where he is?’

 

‘Ah. Thought I recognised you Sir. He’s in the laboratory in the annex Sir.’

 

‘Any chance you could take me there?,’ John asked.

 

‘Course Sir. This way.’

 

Decker led him through hallways which took them to the rear of the house and into a corridor which had obviously been added more recently. They came to a sturdy looking door with a security badge lock and intercom on the wall.

 

‘The professor’s in there Sir. You’ll need to use the intercom to be let in,’ Decker explained.

 

‘Thank you Sergeant. I think I’ve got it from here,’ John told him. ‘Thank you for your help.’ He touched a finger to his forehead in a form of salute. Decker nodded with a smile and departed.

 

John reached inside his jacket pocket and took out his sonic screwdriver. He zapped the badge lock and the door clicked open. He quietly slipped inside and gently closed the door behind him. The laboratory was an “L” shaped room, and he could hear Professor Crimm around the corner. There were workbenches along the walls which reminded him of his own workshop at Torchwood.

 

A number of triangular panels on a bench opposite caught his attention and he went over to have a look. They were arranged in a way which made it look as though they would fit together to form an icosahedron about 3 feet in across. There were other components that looked as though they would form one of those three dimensional puzzles. He wandered down the workshop and turned the corner.

 

‘Ah. Here you are,’ John said cheerfully, startling Crimm and making him straighten up and turn around.

 

He was standing in front of a icosahedral framework full of weird component, and partly covered with panels of the type John had seen on the benches. 

 

‘What the Devil? You gave me a fright then . . . How did you get in here?’ Crimm said.

 

John pointed over his shoulder. ‘Through the door of course. But a more important question is, what are you doing with that?’

 

Crimm tried to cover the object with a dust sheet. ‘This is classified and none of your business,’ he said irritably.

 

John took his smartphone out of his jacket pocket and found a speed dial. He smiled at Crimm while he waited for the call to connect.

 

‘Oh, hello Harriet. It’s John. Sorry to trouble you, but I’ve got a professor here who doesn’t think I have security clearance to see his work,’ John said.

 

‘Harriet?’ Crimm asked, but John wasn’t listening.

 

‘Would you. That would be a big help. Thank you,’ John said and held the phone out for Crimm. ‘It’s the President. She’d like a word.’

 

‘The President?’ Crimm asked as he took the phone. John nodded. ‘Hello? Professor Crimm.’

 

[‘Hello Professor. Harriet Jones, President,’] Harriet said.

 

‘Er, yes Ma’am. I know who you are,’ Crimm replied. 

 

[‘Well, I’m glad you know who one of us is,’] she said sarcastically. [‘Doctor Smith is the government’s scientific advisor. His security clearance is so high that you would need to be in orbit to see it.’]

 

Crimm looked at John in awe. ‘I didn’t realise Ma’am.’

 

[‘Obviously, or John wouldn’t have had to disturb me in a cabinet meeting.’]

 

‘Sorry Ma’am.’

 

[‘Apology accepted. Now, whatever Doctor Smith wants to know, you will tell him. Is that understood?’]

 

‘Yes Ma’am. Of course Ma’am.’

 

[‘Then we shall say no more about it. Goodbye Professor.’]

 

‘Yes Ma’am. Goodbye Ma’am.’ Harriet ended the call, and Crimm handed the phone back to John.

 

‘She’s annoyed with you,’ John said with raised eyebrows and a lopsided smile.

 

‘Yes. I kind of got that impression,’ Crimm said with a worried expression. ‘Sorry Doctor. I’d only seen you as the science consultant at Torchwood. I didn’t know you were also advisor to the president.’

 

‘Wellll, I don’t like to brag,’ he said nonchalantly. He put an arm around Arthur’s shoulders and gave him a reassuring hug. ‘Don’t worry about Harriet. She’ll have forgotten about it by tomorrow, and I’ll put a good word in for you. I’m sure she won’t take that OBE off you.’

 

Crimm cast him a worried glance, but John just smiled at him and winked. He then turned to the spherical object and frowned.

 

‘Right. So. Down to business. Do you know what you’ve got here?’ John asked, in the manner of a school master talking to a student.

 

‘Well, that’s what we’ve been trying to find out,’ Crimm told him. ‘For years I’ve been researching the idea of gravity waves. A few years ago, the teams at the  LIGO Livingston and Hanford Observatories made the first direct observation of gravity waves. However, this device seems to be able to generate gravity waves.’

 

‘You’re right, it does,’ John said. ‘But please, don’t power it up just yet.’ 

 

He ran around the corner and gathered armfulls of equipment before reassembling the device. ‘Standing wave compensator,’ he said as he clipped a part into place.

 

He picked up another piece and turned it around and around until he got it the right way up. ‘Feedback loop inhibitor.’ He plugged it back into place. ‘There. At least it won’t destroy the planet.’

 

‘Destroy the planet? Good Lord! Is it a weapon of some kind?’ Crimm asked.

 

‘No. It’s part of a communication device, normally used on a spaceship so it doesn’t cause seismic waves.  But like most technology, if you take the safeties off it can cause problems. The water heater in your home can explode if it develops a fault. Electrical appliances can catch fire . . .’ John explained.

 

‘I get the picture. But how do you know what this is?’ Arthur asked.

 

‘Because I’ve seen one before. It’s a gravitron,’ John told him. He scratched his head. ‘Not sure which company manufactured it though.’

 

‘What’s a gravitron?’

 

John switched into lecture mode. ‘It’s similar to a magnetron. A magnetron generates microwaves, and a gravitron generates gravity waves.’

 

‘Ah, yes. We suspected it generated gravity waves,’ Arthur nodded. ‘Seismographs around the world detected what we thought were minor tremors when we activated the device. A bit unusual to have so many occuring at the same time though.’

 

‘Ah yes. Being minor tremors, they would have slipped under the radar,’ John agreed. ‘Except that we spotted it and put two and two together. I think you can guess how you would manipulate gravity to produce waves,’ he prompted.

 

‘Well. You would need a source of gravity which you could vibrate. But moving something the size of the Earth would be impossible with our present level of technology.’

 

‘Quite right,’ John agreed. ‘Which is why this little beauty has a black hole inside it.’

 

‘A . . . a black hole,’ Arthur said in wonder. ‘That explains the unbelievable density, denser than Osmium . . . This is just incredible.’

 

‘Yeah. A tiny black hole. Several of tons of mass, and so small that the event horizon would be invisible to the naked eye.’

 

‘Oh,’ Arthur said, slightly embarrassed. ‘So if we’d powered it up without the safety devices in place . . .’

 

‘The black hole would have shot down to the centre of the Earth and slowly started to devour it,’ John confirmed. ‘But with the safeties on, the field coils vibrate it to generate a gravitic carrier wave’ 

 

‘A gravitic carrier wave?’

 

‘Yes. And if you generate a gravitic carrier wave, and put a message on that carrier, it would cross the galaxy in an instant, due to the fact that you are modulating the very fabric of space-time itself.’

 

The professor looked stunned. ‘But . . . But that’s impossible.’

 

‘Well it is without a microphone,’ John said with a grin. ‘But the carrier wave is like a general invitation to have a conversation. CQDX the ham radio enthusiasts call it, or breaker 19 for a copy if you use citizen band.’

 

‘Really?’ Arthur said, looking slightly worried. ‘And how do they respond?’

 

‘Well that depends. I don’t know for certain. I mean, it’s just a theory, and I have no evidence . . . but someone may have responded to that invite by paying a visit and putting a village to sleep.’

  
  



	8. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julia, Jake and John do what they can for the villagers, and then it's time to do what John used to do in the old universe as the Doctor . . . leave.

**Chapter 8**

 

**Moving On**

  
  
  


Julia had walked with John past the village green, where he then headed north towards Hickham Lane and the Abbey ruins. She had carried straight on until she came to a wooden, straight rail gate, mounted between two stone columns with two lions sitting on top. She pulled the large latch, and passing through the gate, walking up one of the car tyre ruts in the gravel drive towards the Manor. 

 

She stepped into the small, brick porch and wiped her boots on the coconut bristle mat which had “Welcome” woven into it. The main door was old, weathered oak, with black studs and hinges, and a small diamond shaped, leaded window. She saw an old fashioned bell pull hanging against the wall . . . so she pulled it. There was a gentle jangling of bells from inside.

 

After what seemed a long time, she saw the shape of a tall, man approaching through the distorted glass in the door. The door opened, and a man with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, looked as though he had just got out of bed. He appeared to be in his fifties, with disheveled white hair, an aquiline nose, and eyes that looked weary, but still sparkled with intelligence.

 

‘Hello?’ the man said with a frown.

 

‘Mister Zellaby?’ Julia enquired.

 

‘Er, yes. And I’m guessing by the paramilitary uniform that you may be able to tell me what has happened to us,’ Zellaby said.

 

Julia showed him her identification. ‘My name is Julia De Graff. I’m a Special Operations Field Agent for the Torchwood Institute. It’s not just you Mister Zellaby . . . it’s the whole village, and we need your help.’

 

‘Who is it Gordon?’ a woman asked from inside.

 

‘You’d better come in,’ Zellaby said. ‘It’s a young lady from an institute. She says the whole village has been affected.’

Zellaby led her to the kitchen, where she found two women sitting on wooden chairs. One was middle aged, and the other appeared to be in her twenties. They were both huddled around an Arger. A kettle on top of it started whistling.

 

‘This is my wife, Angela, and my daughter Ferrelyn,’ said Zellaby. 

 

‘Hi,’ Ferrelyn said with a feeble wave.

 

‘Cup of tea my dear,’ Angela asked Julia.

 

‘Thank you, but maybe another time. Right now, there are a number of vulnerable people in the village who are going to need our assistance.’

 

‘Yes, of course,’ Gordon said with a nod. ‘Whatever we can do to help. But it might help if we knew what has happened. One moment it was nighttime, and then we woke up freezing cold on the floor in daytime.’

 

‘Well, we don’t know all the facts yet. We’ve only just been able to get into the village. For the last 36 hours, anyone who got within a mile of the centre of Dunwich would fall into a coma.’

 

‘36 hours!’ Angela exclaimed. ‘I thought it was just last night. 36 hours? But who would do such a thing?’ 

 

‘WHY anyone would do such a thing is what I want to know,’ added Gordon.

 

‘That we don’t know yet. But I do know that after 36 hours, anyone without central heating is going to be extremely cold. Richard Haywood on the edge of the village told me that you Gordon, might know who we need to get to first. The elderly and the infirm.’

 

‘Er, yes, yes. Of course,’ Gordon said as he swept his hair back over his head. ‘There’s Miss Ogle at the Post Office for a start.’

 

‘Miss Latterly and Miss Lamb,’ Angela added.

 

‘Right. Hold on,’ Julia said and activated her ear comms. ‘Agent De Graff to Agent Simmonds. Jake do you copy? Over.’

  
  


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Jake was in the small kitchen of the Village Hall, where he’d filled the tea urn and switched it on. He took packets of biscuits out of a cupboard and put them on plates. The Reverend Hubert Leebody and his wife Dora, had turned the wall heaters on full to try and get some warmth back into their bones. Camera Director, David Rea was filming the villagers as they rallied together to support each other.

 

Richard Haywood, his family and their friends came into the hall, guiding villagers to the chairs and tables that had been arranged by the heaters. Hubert and Dora started distributing the tea and biscuits. It all felt very “Jam and Jerusalem” of the Women’s Institute.

 

[‘Agent De Graff to Agent Simmonds. Jake do you copy? Over,’] Jake heard in his ear comms.

 

‘Yeah. I copy Julia. How’s it going? Over.’

 

[‘I’m with the Zellaby family, and they’ve got a list of people we need to get to. Have the emergency services arrived yet? Over.’]

 

‘Hang on. I’ll go and check. Over,’ Jake replied as he headed for the door. He stepped outside and was greeted by the site of ambulances, fire engines, and police cars littering the roads around the village green. ‘Yep. They’re here. Over.’

 

[‘Copy that. Go over to the paramedics and when you’re there, I’ll give you the names and addresses. Over.’]

 

‘Copy that. Standby.’ Jake jogged over to the ambulances, showed them his identification and started to give them the names of the villagers who were most at risk, and where to find them. He watched as the paramedics jogged away in different directions.

  
  


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John returned to the Village Hall in the centre of the village, riding on top of the robot which he had collected from the Abbey grounds. He’d also remembered to pick up the “Spy-Fly” which he had parked on one of the stone walls. He’d contacted Amy on Despatch and asked her to organise a truck to come and collect the seven ton artefact, and instructed Professor Crimm to leave it alone until they did. He noticed that the MIV had been brought into the village and parked in front of the Inn.

 

The hall was buzzing with activity as younger members of the community distributed cups of tea and plates of biscuits, all organised by Gordon and Angela Zellaby. John detected a subdued atmosphere pervading the gathering. He spotted Julia and Jake at the back of the hall and made his way over to them.

 

‘Hi Doc,’ Jake called out to him. ‘Did you find anything at the Abbey?’

 

‘Nah. Whoever it was, they’d flown the coop by the time I got there. I did find a nice artefact at The Grange though. There’s a truck coming to confiscate it and take it back to Torchwood for safe keeping.’ He looked around the hall. ‘Is everyone all right? There seems to be a bit of an atmosphere in here.’

 

Julia looked up at him with a sad expression. ‘We’ve just had the death toll from the emergency services. Eleven people didn’t make it. Friends and relatives of these people.’

 

‘Eleven? Damn it! And not a trace of who killed them,’ John said in a mix of frustration and anger.

 

‘I believe the deaths were unintentional,’ said Gordon behind them. ‘Whatever those original intentions were.’

 

John turned to face him. ‘I agree. Someone or something came here with a purpose . . . and a callous disregard for the life of any creature which had the misfortune to be involved in that purpose.’

 

Gordon held out his hand. ‘Gordon Zellaby.’

 

‘John Smith,’ John said as he shook his hand, trying to remember where he’d heard the name. ‘Zellaby? Zellaby? Oh, Kyle Manor. You’re the local squire.’

 

‘Hardly,’ Gordon replied modestly. ‘Just because I live in the manor house doesn’t make me lord of it.’

 

‘No. But your bearing and your authority here . . . People respect you. Zellaby’s an uncommon name. I’ve heard it before somewhere,’ John said with a frown. ‘Hang on . . . Gordon Zellaby, Justice of the Peace. Author of “While We Last”? Are you that Gordon Zellaby?’ John asked.

 

‘Guilty as charged,’ Gordon confessed.

 

‘Interesting take on asceticism and overindulgence. Arguing that they both could be evidence of maladjustment,’ John said in a review of Zellaby’s book.

 

‘All seems a bit trivial now,’ Gordon said sadly, looking around the hall. ‘With what has happened here.’

 

‘Did you know any of the people who died,’ Julia asked him.

 

‘Yes. All of them to some degree,’ Gordon said. ‘The most tragic was William Trunk, a farm-hand, his wife, and their small son. They perished when their cottage burnt down. An elderly couple called Stagfield were lost in the other house that caught fire. Harry Crankhart, who I believe you recovered from the steps of The Scythe and Stone. Another farm-hand, Herbert Flagg died of exposure. The other four were all elderly persons who succumbed to various illnesses. Diabetes, asthma and the like.’

 

‘We’re sorry for your loss. I think we should probably go now and leave you in peace,’ John said in a flash back to the old days in the old universe, where he would just disappear without any fuss. Sometimes Rose would give his “old self” a look which would melt steel when she thought he was being particularly rude and insensitive.

 

‘Well, not quite yet Doc,’ Jake said. ‘Our staff from Forensics are on their way to take blood samples, specimens of urine, mouth swabs and hair samples for analysis.’

 

‘Ah, yes. Right. Sorry about that,’ John apologised as he scratched the back of his neck.

 

Julia saw the concerned look on Zellaby’s face. ‘But also, our counsellors will be here shortly to help you with your grieving. They’ll be able to give you advice on how to come to terms with what’s happened,’ Jake told him.

 

‘The trouble is, we don’t know what’s happened,’ Gordon told them.

 

‘Not yet,’ John said. ‘But I will do everything I can to try and find out. Particularly for the Trunk family. I have a family of my own.’

 

‘Then I wish you luck in your endeavour,’ Gordon said and returned to tend to the villagers.

 

‘Come on then. I’ll drive the robot into the MIV and we can be off,’ John said.

 

In the MIV, Jake made his way forward to the driver’s seat as Julia, John and David followed him up the ramp. John turned and drove the robot up the ramp and parked it so that the door could rise up behind it.

 

‘Why don’t you go and sit up front with Jake,’ John suggested. ‘I can sit back here and type up the report while we travel.’

 

‘Yeah. Okay, if you’re sure.’ She sat in the passenger seat, and Jake pulled away from the pub and headed for Oppley Road.

 

‘Y’know, it just doesn’t seem real,’ Julia said with a melancholy air.

 

‘Eh?’ Jake asked.

 

‘All this. This idyllic English village. It’s so . . . normal. The kind of place you’d retire to for a quiet life,’ Julia said, trying to express how she felt.

 

Jake smiled at her. ‘Yeah. And something abnormal happens to ruin it all, turning their lives upside down.’

 

‘And ending some of those lives,’ John added from the back. ‘I bet they didn’t see this one coming.’

 

‘No,’ Julia agreed. ‘Do you think we’ll ever know what it was all about?’

 

‘I doubt it,’ John told her. ‘Without any physical evidence, there’s no way of tracing those responsible.’

 

‘Couldn’t you use the TARDIS to go back and catch them?’ Jake asked.

 

‘And cross into an established event?’ John queried. ‘I quite like this world as it is. It would be a shame to have it disappear in a causal nexus flux.’

 

‘Oh . . . Right,’ Jake said with raised eyebrows.

 

‘That told you,’ Julia said with a laugh.

  
  


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As Julia and Jake, walked into Special Operations, they finger slapped, gripped and fist bumped the members of the Watch who were there. John was greeted with a cup of tea and a kiss from his wife as she was aware of his arrival in her head.

 

‘Ooh. Thanks Love. You’re a lifesaver,’ he said with a smile.

 

‘You all right?’ Rose asked him with a concerned look. ‘I can feel somethin’ botherin’ you. Is there somethin’ wrong with the villagers?’

 

‘Eh? Oh, no. They’ll be fine after a bit of counselling. It’s just not being able to get them any justice,’ he told her.

 

He sat on one of the comfy sofas with the rest of the Watch, and Rose leaned on the back of the sofa behind him as they chatted about the mission. A while later, Jack Harkness, the Director of Torchwood, entered the Standby Room.

 

‘I’d heard you were back,’ He said to John, Julia and Jake. ‘Nice work at Dunwich.’

 

‘Well, I’m not sure we did anything to be honest,’ John said. ‘And I’m still peeved that the perpetrators got away. I was this close to catching them,’ John said, pinching his fingers together.

 

‘Well, we’ve requested a criminal investigation with the Shadow Proclamation and sent them all the data you compiled,’ Jack told him. ‘You never know, they may have reports on file of this happening before.’

 

‘Yeah, I suppose so,’ John said, unconvinced. ‘But all those people who died. They’ve got no justice, and the villagers have no closure.’

 

Rose rubbed his shoulders from behind. ‘No. But you did save that police officer.’

 

‘And don’t forget you rescued me before my air ran out,’ Amy called to him from the Despatch Office doorway with a cheery wave.

 

Rose smiled and started to sing. ‘So just remember, you've got to ac-cen-tuate the positive . . .’

 

Julia and Gwen clicked their fingers and rocked from side to side as they joined in. ‘El-im-inate the negative.’

 

‘Hey Doc,’ Jake called to John. ‘I think something’s messed with that causal nexus thingy. We’ve ended up in “Torchwood The Musical”!’

 

John laughed as Jack sang the third verse. ‘And latch - on - to the affirmative.’

 

‘All together now,’ Craig "Ace" Rimmer suggested, and they all joined in.

 

‘Don't mess with Mister In-Between.’

 

Amy called from the Despatch Office doorway. ‘Rose . . . We’ve just had a call from “The Wow-Factor” judges. They recommend you don’t give up the day jobs,’ she said, referring to the popular talent show on TV.

 

‘Cheeky bugger,’ Jake said, picking up a scatter cushion and throwing it in her direction. Amy giggled and ducked back into the office before the soft projectile reached her.

 

Camera Directors Will Hustler, and David Rea had been filming the impromptu cabaret and Amy’s comment from different angles and were loving it. It showed how the Watch let off steam, raised spirits and supported each other after a difficult assignment.

 

Laughing with the group, Jack started back to his office on the top floor. He got to the door of the Unit, when he remembered a message he’d received for John.

 

‘Oh, John.  Malcolm Taylor phoned to apologise on behalf of the UNIT Research Division. He says he hadn’t been made aware they were messing with alien artefacts at The Grange.’

 

‘That figures,’ John said. ‘He knows that we’re the best place to examine alien artefacts. Thanks Jack.’

 

‘And I nearly forgot. Enjoy your annual leave you two. If it was anyone else, I’d have said it was a trip of a lifetime. But for you two, it’s probably just another trip around the block,’ Jack said.

 

‘Oh I don’t know,’ Rose said. ‘It’s quite excitin’ to be on an inaugural flight to the moon. We’re gonna be the Earth’s first space tourists.’ 

 

And so a line was drawn under  the Dunwich incident, and the report filed as unsolved . . . at least for now.

  
  
  



	9. To The Moon Alice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John, Rose, and their families set off on their once in a lifetime holiday.  
> Authors notes:  
> The magnetic levitation track actually exists. The Shanghai Maglev train reaches 256mph.  
> The SABRE rocket actually exists and has backing by the British government. (I can't wait for it to go into production.)  
> The Lunar Conveyor doesn't exist, but wouldn't it be cool if it did. (I'm not sure if it is possible for a vessel to use gravity assist to keep looping it around the Earth and the Moon.)

**Chapter 9**

 

**To The Moon Alice**

  
  
  


The Vitex airship hovered slowly over the landing pad of Chimborazo Spaceport in Ecuador, it’s white airframe gleaming in the early morning sunlight like an oversized Horseshoe Crab. It gently touched down alongside a number of other company airships which formed the International Space Consortium. The consortium had been formed not long after Doctor John Smith arrived in “Pete’s World”, and Alan Bond had invited him to the preliminary test firing of their Synergistic Air-Breathing Rocket Engine.

 

John had seen that Bond and his team at Reaction Engines Limited, understood the complexities and difficulties of building such an engine, and so he had shared with them the benefit of his considerable experience. On John’s recommendation, Pete Tyler had signed up Vitex and Cybus Industries to the project. Other entrepreneurs such as Elon Musk, Henry van Statten, Richard Branson and Alan Sugar quickly followed suit, with other companies joining the consortium to get a share of this new and potentially lucrative market.

 

The Tyler and Smith families, walked from under the bulk of the airship and looked into the distance at the snow capped peak of the extinct volcano of Chimborazo. It rose one and a half miles above the surrounding landscape, and they could make out the thin strip of the three mile long magnetic levitation track which ran up the western slope, representing the culmination of all those years of hard work.

 

‘So that’s it then?’ Rose said. ‘The path, or should I say track to the stars.’

 

‘Well, to the Moon for now,’ John said with a smile. ‘But yeah, this is mankind’s first steps into a larger universe.’

 

‘Y’know, it’s like I said to Jack,’ said Rose as they walked towards the terminal building. ‘This is SO excitin’. Even if we have been to other worlds and galaxies in the TARDIS, travellin’ in the blink of an eye.’

 

‘Inaugural trips always are,’ Pete told her. ‘And this is something we’ve done ourselves. Okay we had help from John, but he didn’t give it to us. He let us work it out for ourselves, only helping us to avoid the pitfalls that would have cost time, money and lives.’ 

 

‘All I’m hoping is that this zero gravity don’t make me throw up,’ Jackie said, dampening the air of anticipation.

 

‘It’s not zero gravity Jackie, it’s micro grav . . .’ John saw the look she was giving him and decided to stop talking.

 

‘You’ll be fine Mum,’ Rose told her. ‘Floatin’ around is the best part.’

 

‘Yeah. I can’t wait to get in the fun room,’ Eyulf told them, and all the children agreed.

 

They passed through “check-in”, and met the other families in the plush reception area, along with news reporters and their camera crews, whilst their luggage was loaded onto the space plane. Of course, there was only one name they could choose for the space plane, and that was Enterprise.

 

A young woman in a Branson-Galactic uniform entered the reception area. ‘Ladies and gentlemen. If you would like to make your way to the embarkation lounge . . .’

 

The one hundred passengers followed her out of the reception area, through the embarkation lounge, and into the boarding tunnel that led to the plush interior of the Enterprise cabin. Eyulf had a window seat, with his sister Juleshka next to him, and their mother Rose taking the aisle seat. John took the aisle seat opposite Rose, and had his son Jason and his brother-in-law Tony next to him. Pete and Jackie took seats behind Rose.

 

A man and a woman entered the cabin, wearing military style flight suits, and the man addressed the passengers.

 

‘Good morning ladies, gentlemen, and young people. I’m captain Dave Mackay, chief pilot for Branson-Galactic, and this is my copilot, Nicola Pecile.’

 

‘Morning Dave, Nicky,’ Branson called from his seat at the front.’

 

Mackay smiled. ‘Morning boss. Now, I know this is the inaugural flight for the passenger service, but we have flown the Enterprise many times on supply flights to the Lunar Conveyor, which we will be rendezvousing with when we achieve orbit. This passenger cabin has been “plugged” into fuselage where the cargo module normally sits.’

 

Pecile spoke next. ‘We’ve already run through most of the pre launch checklist. It’s just the hatch seals and pressure checks left, so make yourselves comfortable and we’ll let you know when we are ready to roll.’

 

The pilots went through onto the flight deck, and there was a buzz of excitement and expectation in the cabin. Media screens on the back of the seats were displaying an animation of how the launch system worked. There was also a menu for passengers to select their own media, and the kids had already selected some of their favourite programs.

 

Ten minutes later, the seat harness sign “bonged” and the attendants demonstrated how to clip the shoulder and lap straps into the central locking disk, helping people who were having difficulties. Once the attendants were seated, there was a gentle, silent sensation of movement as the magnetic levitation track of the mass driver started to move the Enterprise forwards.

 

The cabin then started to tilt backwards as they climbed up the side of the mountain to the summit, achieving a velocity of six hundred and eighty miles an hour. Mackay ignited the jet phase of the Synergistic Air-Breathing Rocket Engine, and the delta winged space plane left the sled behind as it soared into the sky. 

 

Observers on the ground saw a hole appear in the thin, wispy clouds around the summit as the wake of the pressure wave blew a “smoke ring” through them, followed shortly afterwards by the muffled rumble of a sonic boom as the ship broke the sound barrier.

 

‘Whoo hoo!’ the children on board exclaimed as the added thrust pushed them into their seats. The adventurous adults had big grins on their faces, whilst the less adventurous members had looks of apprehension and concern.

 

At an altitude of seventeen miles, the Enterprise passed Mach five, and the air breathing, jet engine phase of the launch was powered down. Oxygen from the onboard tanks was fed to the engines, and it seamlessly became a conventional rocket engine, boosting the Enterprise up to its orbital velocity.

 

[‘Ladies, gentlemen, and particularly for this bit, young people; we have achieved orbit and the engines will cut off. Please feel free to leave your seat and have some fun,’] Mackay announced.

 

Suddenly, people felt the pressure of acceleration disappear, and the only thing holding them in their seats were their harnesses. Before any of the adults had hit the central disk and released the straps, children were floating overhead, laughing and giggling as they improvised a game of tag.

 

Rose glided gracefully out of her seat, and using her gymnastic skills, maneuvered herself around the cabin. She helped the less experienced and coordinated passengers to find their space legs and enjoy the sensation of flying.

 

‘Come on Mum. Have a go, you’ll love it,’ she said, holding out her hand.

 

Jackie raised a disbelieving eyebrow. But seeing her daughter’s enthusiastic grin, and her son-in-law and grandchildren tumbling around the cabin, she unbuckled the harness and took her daughter’s hand.

 

‘Yay! Grandma. Have a go at this,’ Eyulf called out, as he tucked into a forward roll that sent him barrelling down the aisle into the arms of his father.

 

Jackie chuckled at her grandson’s enthusiasm. ‘Maybe I’ll just drift about a bit before I try that, eh.’

 

For the next hour, as the Enterprise approached its rendezvous point with the ship that would take them to the Moon, the passengers enjoyed all sorts of high jinks with various sweets, chocolates and any other items they could find, being launched across the cabin. The news crew on board were getting great footage of the rich and famous behaving like children at a play park, similar to trainee astronauts in the “vomit comet”.

 

[‘Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your seats and fasten your harnesses. We will be performing a series of maneuvers that will put us into the correct orientation to dock with the Lunar Conveyor,’] Mackay announced.

 

‘Awww,’ the younger passengers moaned, along with a few of the adults. But they made their way back to their seats and strapped in. Soon after, they felt themselves being pulled to the left, and then the right, and then rolling through ninety degrees. On the media screens, they could see a live feed from an external camera which showed a dot of light slowly getting bigger.

 

[‘The flight crew thought you’d appreciate a little music as we make our approach to the Lunar Conveyor,’] Mackay announced over the intercom.

 

As the dot resolved into a slowly rotating, wheel shaped object, the strains of “On the Beautiful Blue Danube” filled the cabin. The Lunar Conveyor, or “Wagon Wheel” as it had been dubbed by the press, was inspired by the space station in the Stanley Kubrick film “2001, A Space Odyssey”, except it only had one wheel. It was on a five day elliptical orbit around the Earth and the Moon, and gave the space planes a piggyback ride. 

 

Once it was realised that the Space Plane would make achieving orbit cheaper, aerospace engineers started working on the Lunar Conveyor, adding four “spokes” and building a habitat ring that would rotate and simulate gravity. Teams of astronaut engineers had lived in cabins on the ends of the “spokes” to complete the wheel of the Conveyor.

 

Whilst the Conveyor was being built, a factory unit had been sent to Peary Base which contained a number of molding panels. A lightweight Kevlar-like web material was placed in the molds, and moon dust was sifted over the top. A bonding resin was then injected into the closed mold, and individual construction panels were produced to build a new tourist resort in the Sea of Tranquility.

 

As the Enterprise approached the Conveyor, it was completing one anticlockwise roll every sixty one seconds to match the rotation at its centre. On the screens, it gave the illusion that the centre of the Wagon Wheel was stationary, and at the edges of the field of view, the stars could be seen rotating clockwise. As they got closer to the Conveyer, they could appreciate the nine hundred feet of the wheels diameter.

 

Something that wasn’t on the space station in the film, was a platform protruding from the docking bay entrance. This was a magnetic deceleration platform, which would capture the Enterprise and slow it down as it entered the rectangular docking bay. As Rose looked past her children and out of the window, she could see an observation window go by where people were sitting at control desks. Some were oriented to the floor, whilst others were on the ceiling. She saw one individual floating down the centre of the room.

 

The passengers felt a gentle “clump” as the Enterprise docked with the airlock portal. There was a “thrubbing” noise and a hiss as air pumps pressurised the airlock. On the door control panel, a red light turned green and the screen displayed the words “airlock pressurised”. Wearing Velcro soled shoes, one of the flight attendants walked across the ceiling to the door, turned the inset handle and pulled the door inwards. It was hinged so that once it had cleared the hatch, it turned and rested against the dividing bulkhead wall between the cabin and the flightdeck.

 

Mackay and Pecile floated through the door from the flightdeck as a middle aged man in a white naval uniform stepped through the hatchway and smiled at the passengers. ‘Good morning everyone. My name is Jonathan Archer, acting captain of the Lunar Conveyor. Welcome aboard.’ The passengers broke into spontaneous applause as Mackay and Archer shook hands. 

 

A flight attendant addressed the passengers. ‘If you would all follow me, I will lead you to the main reception area where you can check in.’ She saw passengers float up to the overhead lockers. ‘Your hand luggage will be collected by the hospitality staff and taken to your apartments so that you can enjoy the experience of floating to the elevators.’

 

‘Oh, that’s all right then,’ Jackie said as she floated out of her seat. ‘It’s good service around here innit?’

 

People used the seatbacks to move themselves forward to the hatchway, and passed through into a cylindrical, padded corridor which contained handholds along its length. Because everyone was in free fall, it could have been a corridor, a chimney or a well, as there was no up or down.

 

They drifted out of the corridor into a square, padded room with horizontal lighting panels recessed into the walls. As people just hung in the air, there was the slightest hint of centrifugal force from the wall opposite, which made the wall a floor, and the lighting panels vertical. One of the walls had three sliding doors recessed into it which gave access the the hydraulic elevator carriages.

 

The passengers spent some time drifting around the room, having fun as they had in the Enterprise. John got Eyulf, Juleshka and Jason to tuck themselves into balls and then pushed them tumbling across the room to be caught by Rose, Pete and Jackie. Rose and Juleshka then held hands and performed some synchronised aerobatics using their gymnastic skills.

 

Once again there were disappointed “awwws” as the elevators “dinged” and the flight attendants directed the passengers into the cylindrical carriages.

 

‘As the carriage descends towards the habitat ring, you will experience an increase in centrifugal force,’ their attendant explained. ‘Please take hold of the handrail and keep your feet on the floor of the car to avoid injury.’

 

John and Rose held the handrails and grabbed their children’s ankles and arms to gently bring them off the ceiling and down to what would become the floor. As the carriage descended, there was an initial sensation of being pulled to the ceiling, followed by freefall, and then a gradual increasing of gravity. 

 

When the doors of the lift carriages opened, they were stunned to see a spacious reception area which looked very similar to the one at Torchwood Tower. The floors and walls were a polished marble effect material, with low glass tables, comfortable chairs and couches dotted around them.

 

The lifts formed a column in the centre of the reception area, which ran up the middle of one of the four “spokes” of the wheel. Guests were stepping out of the other carriages and looking around in wonder. Fifty feet to the left of the lifts was the forward bulkhead wall, which had a series of large windows showing the rotating starfield and half-Moon beyond. Fifty feet to the right of the lifts was the aft bulkhead wall, showing a half-Earth. In front of them, in the anti-spinward direction were two large reception desks with a wide passageway between them, the floor of which gently curved upwards out of sight.

 

‘Hah! This is just as I envisioned it,’ a man with a Spanish accent declared.

 

‘Who’s that?’ Rose asked.

 

‘Spanish architect, artist and engineer, Santiago Calatrava,’ Pete told her. ‘And that’s his wife Eilissa, with his two sons I think.’

 

John leaned towards Rose. ‘After the engineers had designed and built the exterior structure of the Conveyor, they commissioned Santiago to design the interior structure.’

 

‘He’s done a good job,’ said Jackie as they moved towards the reception desks.

 

A young woman behind the desk gave them a warm smile. ‘Good afternoon. Welcome aboard the Lunar Conveyor.’

 

‘Thank you,’ Rose said, returning her smile.

 

‘Dr and Mrs Smith, you and your family are in apartment fifteen A,’ the receptionist said, recognising them from the television documentary and handing them a key card. ‘And Mr and Mrs Tyler, you and your son are in fifteen B opposite.’

 

‘Thank you,’ Pete said as he took his key card.

 

‘The apartments are spinward,’ she explained, pointing past the column of lifts. ‘You may wish to stretch your legs and walk, or you can wait for one of the automated buggies that circuit the habitat ring. There’s one every five minutes or so.’

 

‘That’s all right love,’ Jackie said. ‘After all that flyin’ about, it’s nice to get me feet on the ground.’

 

The young lady laughed with her. ‘Haven’t got your space legs yet then? I hope that doesn’t spoil your enjoyment of the facilities, and I hope you enjoy your stay.’

 

‘Thanks love. I’m certainly goin’ to give it a go,’ Jackie told her.


	10. Home Sweet Home?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple of villagers (who may seem familiar) return from their holiday to find out that their quiet village isn't as quiet as it used to be.  
> Authors note:  
> One of these new characters is what gave the story the impetus it needed. I think you'll know which one.

**Chapter 10**

 

**Home Sweet Home?**

  
  


It was late on Saturday afternoon in the village of Dunwich, and the light was starting to fade as a Land Rover Discovery whispered silently around the village green on its four electric motors. It pulled up outside the Templeton's cottage, and a dark skinned man and a red haired woman climbed out. The woman looked out over the green at the church and took in a deep breath.

 

‘Oh, innit good to be back home?’ she said.

 

‘Yeah. I can’t believe how lucky we are to live here,’ the man replied.

 

The woman sniffed the air. ‘Can you smell burnin’?

 

The man sniffed. ‘Oh yeah. Smells like someone’s been burning an old sofa,’ he replied.

 

‘I bet Harriman the baker’s done a King Alfred on the cakes again,’ the woman suggested. ‘I swear he’s goin’ senile.’

 

The man laughed. ‘Go and put the kettle on and I’ll get the luggage out of the back.’

 

They had just returned from a holiday in the Maldives, and had driven back from Heathrow airport. The man opened the back of the Discovery and took out four cases . . . and a hat box. He smiled to himself at that. Who takes a hat box to the Maldives?

 

It took two trips to get the cases (and the hat box) into the hallway, and he closed the front door. The air in the cottage was cold and slightly damp, so he went through to the kitchen and switched on the central heating, turning the thermostat up high.

 

‘Good idea,’ his wife said, and picked up the two mugs of tea. ‘Let’s take these through to the lounge and warm up.’

 

They cuddled up on the sofa and cupped their hands around their mugs of tea. The air had already started to warm up, and the cottage started to feel homely and inviting once more.

 

‘I can’t be arsed to put a wash on tonight,’ the woman said. ‘I’ll do a big wash tomorrow.’

 

‘It’ll keep,’ the man agreed. ‘What do you want to do about tea tonight? I could get a takeaway from the Indian in Trayne.’

 

‘Nah. Don’t fancy an Indian. Tell yer what, why don’t we have somethin’ at the pub with a pint of real ale,’ she said with a smile.

 

‘And you can catch up on the local gossip,’ he said with a laugh.

 

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said, feigning indignity.

 

He laughed again. ‘Sounds good to me anyway. We’ll finish our drinks, go get freshened up, change our clothes, and then we can have a wander over.’

 

An hour later, the couple were strolling around the edge of the Green, arm in arm. They had their long winter coats on as the temperature had fallen considerably once the weak autumn sun had dropped below the horizon. The ornate, old fashioned street lamps had modern LED bulbs in them and cast oases of white light on the narrow pavements. They could see a welcoming glow of yellowish light coming through the windows and the open door of the The Scythe and Stone Inn.

 

The woman was wearing a woolly hat, pulled down over her ears with matching woollen gloves, and held on to her husbands arm. The man had a scarf tied around his neck in the modern fashion of putting the two ends through the loop, and had his hands in his coat pockets. They walked up the few steps to the door of the Inn, and the man ushered his wife inside.

 

The Inn owner, Mrs Williams looked towards the door to see who had entered, and smiled a greeting. The couple noticed that the smile didn’t quite make it to the rest of her face like it normally did.

 

‘Donna. Shaun. You’re back,’ Mrs Williams observed. ‘Pint and a half of Monk’s is it?’

 

‘Yes please,’ Donna replied. ‘And a couple of hotpots if you’re doin’ ‘em.’

 

‘Of course,’ Mrs Williams said as she started to pull the pump on the bar. ‘DAVID. TWO HOTPOTS PLEASE,’ she shouted.

 

‘Righto,’ a voice called back through a door leading to the kitchen.

 

‘How were the Maldives?’

 

‘Lovely thanks Mrs W. One week of digital detox does wonders for the soul,’ Donna replied.

 

‘You haven’t heard the news then?’ Mrs Williams asked.

 

‘What news? We’ve been on a desert island . . . Well, when I say desert island, it wasn’t like Robinson Crusoe. We had five star accommodation and Cordon Bleu cuisine, but we’d put our phones on do not disturb. Emergency calls only in case my mum or grandad needed to contact me, or Shaun’s family needed to contact him.’

 

‘That explains it then. I know you young ‘n’s are usually all over this kind of thing on your Faceblog, Catchup and Webgossip . . .’

 

Shaun gently interrupted her verbal wanderings. ‘Mrs Williams . . . Over all what kind of thing? What news?’

 

The innkeeper stopped talking. ‘What? Oh, the news. Well it started on Wednesday night. It was just after ten, and Alf and Harry were having their usual argument about fertilizers.’ She was referring to Alfred Wait and a certain Harry Crankhart, local farmers who had differing views on traditional and organic farming methods.

 

‘Amelia Latterly and Victoria Lamb were in their usual corner. G and T with ice and a slice for Miss Latterly, and a Lambrusco for Miss Lamb as usual. A few of the youngsters who hadn’t gone to the pictures in Trayne were in, enjoying a game of darts. Alf finished his pint first and went home, which was fortunate for him,’ she continued.

 

‘Fortunate how?’ Donna asked, wondering when Mrs Williams would get to the point. She knew it was no good trying to hurry her. Donna had tried that once and gotten the woman all flustered and confused so that she’d had to start telling the gossip all over again from the start. ‘When has being thirsty been fortunate?’

 

‘I’m coming to that dear,’ Mrs Williams told her, like an aunt talking to her favourite niece. ‘Harry left a few minutes later, and that’s were they found him, on the steps outside. Stone cold and stiff as a board by all accounts.’

 

Donna frowned in confusion. ‘What? So he took a bit longer to finish his pint and it killed him?’

 

‘Well yes . . . sort of. You see, if they’d have left together, Alf would have been dead there beside him,’ Mrs Williams said helpfully.

 

‘So, what? Did a slate fall off the roof or something? Or a piece of masonry?’ Shaun asked, thinking like an architect.

 

‘No. Nothing like that,’ Mrs Williams said. ‘He fell asleep like everyone else.’

 

‘Fell asleep,’ Donna said. ‘Did he bang his head on the step or somethin’?’

 

‘No. Well I don’t think so. Doctor Willers said it was hypothermia that killed him.’

 

‘Blimey. How cold was it?’ Donna asked. She turned to Shaun. ‘How long does it take to die from . . .’ She turned back to Mrs Williams. ‘. . . Like everyone else . . ? What’cha mean, “like everyone else"?’

 

‘Well, the whole village. Everyone fell asleep.’

 

Donna’s mouth fell open. ‘No way.’

 

‘Yes. One minute I was pulling a pint at quarter past ten on Wednesday night. The next, it was nine thirty yesterday morning and I was on the floor covered in stale beer and as stiff as a board.’

 

‘What happened? I mean, what caused it?’ Shaun asked.

 

‘Nobody knows,’ Mrs Williams replied. ‘We all woke up at the same time and went outside. Poor Harry’s body had already been taken away by those people off the telly.’

 

‘What people off the telly?’ Donna asked.

 

‘Those ghostbuster people . . . You know. That scientist in the suit with the nice smile. Mind you, he could do with putting a comb through his hair.’

 

Donna’s mouth fell open again. ‘Torchwood? You are kiddin’ me. You’re tellin’ me Torchwood were here, in our village?’ She looked at Shaun. ‘Torchwood were here. In our village.’

 

‘So I gather,’ Shaun said with a lopsided smile.

 

‘And we missed it. I missed Doctor Smith! God he’s gorgeous,’ Donna told Mrs Williams. ‘We tried to see ‘im and his wife Rose, years ago when we were livin’ in New York. But we never bumped into them, did we?’

 

‘No, you didn’t,’ Shaun replied.

 

His wife’s obsession with celebrity always made him smile. They had seen the news reports from when Torchwood New York was being set up, and Donna had visited the area frequently, trying to accidentally on purpose bump into John and Rose Smith. She had been an ardent follower of their lives in the gossip magazines, and she still had the recording of the Parkinson show, as well as the Hello magazine which had the official photos of the Smith’s wedding in Somerset.

 

‘There were ambulances, fire engines and police all around the Green. It was proper crowded here yesterday,’ Mrs Williams continued.

 

‘Fire engines?’ Shaun queried, and saw the sad expression on Mrs Williams’ face. There were tears welling in her eyes.

 

‘Yes. It was so sad. You know the Trunks?’ she told them, rather than asking. ‘Will’s a farm hand at Dacre farm . . . was a farm hand.’

 

‘Oh yeah. I know ‘im. I know his wife Sue better,’ Donna said. ‘And that cheeky little scamp, Ryan. What happened, did they have a fire?’

 

Mrs Williams took out a tissue and dabbed her eyes. ‘Yes, they did. And no one was awake to put it out.’

 

Donna put a hand to her mouth in horror, and Shaun grasped her other hand. ‘Oh don’t tell me their house burnt down.’

 

Mrs Williams nodded. ‘I told the fire officer that Sue liked to have her scented candles on the go. He reckoned that they must have knocked one over when they passed out.’

 

‘Oh Shaun,’ Donna cried, full of guilt. People had died, and all she could think about was celebrities on the telly. Shaun put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

 

But Mrs Williams hadn’t finished. ‘The Stagfields place burnt down as well. That was probably a cigarette. Old man Stagfield liked his roll ups. Rosie Platch couldn’t take her insulin and died of her diabetes. There was Mrs Brinkman as well. She couldn’t take her heart tablets . . .’

 

‘How many?’ Donna interrupted. ‘How many of the villagers died?’

 

‘Eleven in total,’ Mrs Williams told them. ‘Various chronic chest complaints, hypothermia and the like.’

 

‘Eleven?! But that’s terrible,’ Donna said, anger now taking over from guilt. ‘Who did this? I’ll bloody kill ‘em. Nobody does this in my town . . . village.’

 

‘Well, the Environment Agency said that the earth tremor that we had earlier in the day released a pocket of natural gas which knocked people out, but fortunately wasn’t concentrated enough to kill anyone,’ Mrs Williams explained.

 

‘Pocket of gas?’ Donna said, as though the Environment Agency thought she was an idiot. ‘And you buy that?’

 

‘As if,’ Mrs Williams replied. ‘Half the village, mainly the young ‘n’s, think its aliens. The other half think it’s those people up at the Grange.’

 

‘I could believe that,’ Shaun said. ‘Does anyone really know what they do up there?’

 

‘There’s lots of theories,’ Mrs Williams said. ‘But I’ll tell you one thing. That Doctor Smith went up to the Grange, and an hour later, a black Torchwood truck came and took something away.’

 

‘What was it?’ Donna asked.

 

‘Don’t know. It was covered with a tarpaulin as it came back down Hickham Lane. I think it was round though, like a huge beach ball.’

 

‘And what do Torchwood say about it?’ Donna asked. ‘They’re supposed to be honest and open. At least that’s what they say on their show.’

 

‘Still running tests apparently. Say it’s too early to speculate.’

 

‘So they haven’t got a clue either,’ Donna interpreted.

 

‘Doesn’t look like it, no. By the way, I don’t know if you are interested, the Reverend Leebody’s holding a special service at the church tomorrow morning.’

 

‘Of course we’re interested, aren’t we Shaun,’ Donna said. ‘We’ll be there to show our support.’

 

‘And if there’s anything we can do to help,’ Shaun added.

 

‘That’s very good of you both,’ Mrs Williams said. ‘I know a lot of people these days aren’t that religious, or go to church, but when something like this happens, it’s important for people to come together, and the church seems the right place to do it.’

 

‘TWO HOTPOTS,’ a man dressed as a chef called out, carrying a tray with two steaming ceramic dishes on it.

 

‘Oh. There’s your meals,’ Mrs Williams said. She nodded to a small round table just to the side of the bar. ‘Have a seat and David will bring them over. Do you want another drink?’

 

Donna and Shaun finished their drinks. ‘Yes please,’ Shaun said. ‘And have one yourself.’

 

‘That’s kind of you Love. I’ll have a half of Monk’s thank you.’

 

They took off their coats and put them over the backs of the chairs before sitting at the table. David the chef came around the bar and placed the dishes in front of them with their cutlery. Mrs Williams held out the drinks and he put them on the table as well.

 

‘Thanks Dave,’ Donna said.

 

‘You’re welcome. Enjoy your meal.’

 

‘I’ll try, but I’ve kinda lost my appetite now after hearin’ what happened.’

 

‘You’ve heard then,’ David said

 

‘Yeah. Mrs W was just telling us. I can’t believe it.’

 

‘Neither can anyone else,’ David replied with a far away look in his eyes. He silently wandered back to the kitchen, deep in his own thoughts.

 

They started eating their meal unenthusiastically, when Donna put her knife and fork down. ‘I’ve just remembered, our phones are still on “do not disturb”.’

 

She took her phone out of her pocket, put it on the table, and resumed her meal, as Shaun did the same. She went into the settings menu and turned off the “do not disturb”. The phone vibrated against the wooden table as text messages and emails were received.

 

‘There’s a text from Mum here,’ she told Shaun. ‘It’s dated Thursday. I wonder why she didn’t phone?’ She selected the message and started to read.

 

“Just seen your village on the news. Thank God U R not there. Give me a call when U get back. Mum. x”.

 

‘Mum saw it on the news,’ Donna said.

 

‘Same here,’ Shaun told her. ‘Oh, and one from my sister. “Bet Donna’s pissed that she missed the foxy Doctor”, smiley face.’

 

Donna gave a weak smile. ‘Yeah. But it doesn’t seem important now . . . Not with people dyin’ an’ everythin’.’

 

Shaun reached over and squeezed her hand in support. ‘Hey. It wasn’t your fault those people died. And who knows what would have happened to us if we’d been here. I’ve heard that it’s normal for survivors of a disaster to feel guilty about being alive when other people have died.’

 

‘Yeah. I suppose you’re right. But who’s fault is it? That’s the worst bit, not knowin’ who’s to blame.’

 

They carried on eating, whilst that question and others, buzzed around in Donna’s head. “Who is to blame?” “Is someone going to brought to account for this crime?” “Who’s going to find them?”

 

By the time they had finished their meal, Donna had come to a decision.

 

‘I’m going to Torchwood on Monday,’ she announced.

 

‘Eh?’ Shaun said, caught by surprise. He should be used to these snap decisions his wife made by now, but they still took him by surprise. ‘What for?’

 

‘To represent the village. To represent the people who’ve died. I’ll demand answers, and I’ll demand action,’ she declared.

 

‘Good on yer girl,’ Mrs Williams said from behind the bar. She hadn’t been eavesdropping, but it was a small pub. ‘We thought Squire Zellaby might have done something, with him being a justice of the peace and all that, but he seems to have accepted the official line.’

 

‘Being a justice of the peace, he may have been told to tow the official line,’ Shaun said, playing devil’s advocate.

 

‘Well he might have to, but I don’t,’ Donna said. ‘I’ll get the train in, and I can see my mum and grandad while I’m in town.’

 

‘And you might get to meet Doctor Smith while you’re there,’ Shaun said with a knowing look.

 

‘I might do,’ Donna replied innocently.

 

‘But you really don’t need to get the train,’ Shaun told her. ‘We can go in together. I could do with checking in at the office.’ Shaun did most of his work at home, using custom design software on his computer, but occasionally he needed to meet clients and do paperwork in the London office.

 

‘Oh thanks Love.’

 

When they had finished their meals, they moved around the pub, sitting with people they had come to know in the three years they had lived there, and getting their stories of what had happened to them.

 

A number of people had bruises and black eyes from where they had fallen unconscious and bounced off hard objects or floors. Their friends, Richard and Janet Haywood, were like most people in the village who had been watching television and just fallen unconscious in their chairs. Their children were already in bed and blissfully unaware of anything untoward. In fact they were quite pleased that they’d had a day off school, would not be going to school that day, and the next day was Saturday. Result!

 

One couple who commuted to London, had gone to bed at ten o’clock on the Wednesday night, and woke up Friday morning thinking it was Thursday. At the time, they couldn’t understand all the text messages they’d received asking where they were, and if they were all right.

 

When they had finished their drinks, they put on their coats and made their way home to their warm cottage. Shaun switched on the television and selected BBC News 24 to see if there were any summaries from the day before. Donna phoned her mum to share all the gossip that she had picked up in the pub, and Sylvia told her what she had seen on the news.

 

There was a brief rundown of events in Dunwich, and they saw footage of the police roadblock, Torchwood vehicles arriving, and “foxy” Doctor Smith riding the track laying robot down the lane. Donna recorded that bit for her collection. After that there was a review of the days news, and they saw a number of airships with well known logos, landing at an airport.

 

‘Ooh look, isn’t that’s the Vitex airship next to the Virgin one?’ Donna said.

 

‘What, the one that says “Vitex” on the side?’ Shaun replied with a cheeky grin.

 

Donna playfully slapped his arm as they listened to the report and watched the launch of the space plane Enterprise in Ecuador earlier that morning. The scene changed and showed the interior of the space plane cabin, were people floated and gambolled about.

 

‘Hang on,’ Donna said. ‘I know that sticky up hair, and it ain’t zero gravity that’s making it look like that.’

 

They sat and watched as the Smith and Tyler families got up to high jinks in the cabin, and then saw the external camera footage from the Lunar Conveyor as the Enterprise approached the space dock.

 

Shaun gave her a lopsided smile. ‘Well, unless you can get a ticket to the moon, I reckon you’ve missed them again.’

  
  



	11. Enjoying A Cruise - Through Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Smiths and the Tylers hurtle through space towards the Moon, enjoying all the facilities of the cruise ship.

**Chapter 11**

 

**Enjoying A Cruise - Through Space**

  
  
  


Ninety degrees spinward of the Lunar Conveyor’s main reception area, was the restaurant district. It was a communal open area containing a number of internationally recognised food outlets. They ranged from Michelin star restaurants from Europe, Asia and the Americas, to the well known popular fast food chains. The Smith’s and the Tyler’s were in Nandos, enjoying their lunch together. 

 

David Rockwell, the architect and designer, had joined them with his wife, Marcia, their ten year old son Sam, and daughter Lola, who was aged eight. The families had met briefly, earlier in the day, when their children had been playing in the Hub Fun Zone, a soft play area of mazes and climbing frames in a microgravity environment. 

 

‘Dave was the chief architect on the Lunar Conveyor project,’ Pete explained. ‘He’s responsible for the interior style of the habitat ring over the top of Calatrava’s structural design.’

 

‘You’ve done a good job,’ Jackie told him. ‘It’s like bein’ on one of them posh cruise ships.’ 

 

‘Thank you. And you’re right about the cruise ship feel. We looked at various ships and incorporated their designs into the project.’

 

Marcia started to tell John and Rose about an adult fun area that her husband had designed in the hub.

 

‘Oh. Me an’ Pete tried that out while Tony was in . . . the fun . . . zone,’ Jackie said sheepishly as her daughter and son-in-law looked at her in amazement. ‘What?’

 

John raised his eyebrows and pulled a face. ‘Blimey. I can’t believe your mum and dad beat us to that one.’

 

Pete had a smug look on his face as he picked up his glass of beer and winked at them. ‘Would you like us to childmind after lunch?’

 

‘Would you?’ Rose said with a gleam in her eyes. ‘That would be lovely. Thanks Dad.’

 

So, after they had all finished their meal, Pete and Jackie took the children to explore some more of the habitat ring, whilst John and Rose headed for the lifts. The lift took them down (or up) to a microgravity reception area similar to the one they had seen when they first arrived. There were a number of doors in between the lighting panels, and Rose tugged John towards one that had a green “vacant” sign illuminated above the door. As they floated to the door, she touched the small panel to the side of the door and it slid open.

 

They floated into the spherical, velvet padded room which was tastefully lit with small LED lights that were acting as buttons in the plush velvet wall cushion. Once they closed the door, the sign changed to a red “engaged” notice. Rose wrapped her legs around John’s waist and started to unbutton his shirt. He started to unbutton her blouse. When Rose finished with his shirt, she unbuttoned his trousers and pulled down the zip. John reached inside her blouse and unfastened her bra.

 

They were not newbies when it came to microgravity. After all, they had an anti-gravity bed in the TARDIS, although that only had a limited floatation field. Here, they had a whole room to have fun in and were aware of the laws they had to obey. Newton’s laws of motion that is.

 

The first of Newton’s laws that newbies tended to be unaware of, was his third law which stated that when one body exerts a force on a second body, the second body simultaneously exerts a force equal in magnitude and opposite in direction on the first body. This meant that when the man performed his pelvic thrust, he and his partner would be pushed away from each other.

 

Once acquainted with Newton’s third law, newbies would then be reminded of his first law, that in an inertial reference frame, an object either remains at rest or continues to move at a constant velocity, unless acted upon by a force. The couple would watch as their partner continued to drift away from them and bounce off the wall opposite.

 

John and Rose knew they had to hold on to each other. Once they had taken their tops off each other, John reached around Rose’s waist, and rotated through one eighty degrees. They removed each other’s footwear, and pulled down their trousers. Clothing floated around the room, eventually drifting to one side where the gentle centrifugal force sent them.

 

With an arm wrapped around John’s waist, Rose pulled down John’s boxer trunks, and started to play with what she found there. She could feel John removing her knickers and kissing her intimate area. It was very erotic and arousing. They carefully adjusted their hold on bits of their anatomy as they rotated in front of each other, until their lips found one another’s and they shared a passionate kiss.

 

Rose wrapped her legs around John’s, hooked her heels under his buttocks and gave a little gasp as she pulled herself onto him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he put one hand in the small of her back, one between her shoulders, and pulled her in close. Their pelvic movements started a slow rotation of their bodies as they lost themselves in the moment.

 

Rose reached across with her right arm and grabbed him under his right arm, leaning to her left. Using John’s erection as an axle, she started a counter-clockwise rotation as he rotated clockwise. They both shuddered with pleasure as parts of their intimate anatomy brushed together at unusual angles.

 

John saw her feet drift past and kissed each one as he felt Rose doing the same to his. As they came back face to face, they kissed each other hungrily as they locked into a climactic embrace. Rose let out a cry as a guttural groan escaped John’s throat. They continued their slow rotation for what seemed an eternity. Their bodies entwined, glistening with perspiration. A shudder ran down John’s spine as she gently nibbled his ear.

 

‘That . . . (kiss) Was . . . (kiss) Fantastic,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘D’ya know what I’m ‘thinkin’?’

 

‘Of course I do, we’re telepathic. Remember?’

 

Rose giggled. ‘Oh yeah. Well . . . what d’ya think?’

 

‘I think the next time we come in here, we should have a tablet with a downloaded copy of the Kama Sutra on it.’

 

Rose kissed him on the lips. ‘Mmmm. But until then, I think we can wing it.’

 

John growled with pleasure, and they began to add their own revisions to that ancient text.

 

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

  
  


‘This reminds me of that Caribbean cruise we went on a few years ago,’ Jackie said as they entered the upper floor of the opulent dining room.

 

The ceiling was made of the four layer, micrometeorite proof, laminated glass with art deco styling. The habitat ring could be seen arching away from them to the left and right. The hub could be seen four hundred feet above them, with two of the support struts leading to it. The starfield could be seen slowly drifting by with the rotation of the ship. The room was all white marble and glass with gleaming brass fittings. The broad staircase curved around a fibre optic light sculpture which grew up from the lower deck and spread out like the branches of a tree.

 

‘Ooh this is beautiful,’ Rose said as she took John’s arm and started to descend the stairs. She was wearing a metallic gold, off the shoulder ball gown, which complemented her fit physique. Jackie was wearing an off the shoulder sparkly black dress. John and Pete were wearing their dinner suits with black tie, whilst the boys wore jacket and ties, and Juleshka wore a pale blue version of her mother's dress.

 

‘They’ve certainly gone to town on this section,’ John agreed. ‘Reminds me of the heyday of steamships.’

 

Rose picked up his thoughts on his previous encounters with luxury ships in the old universe. ‘Er, no. This is nothin’ like those ships,’ she told him. He just smiled and nodded his head in agreement.

 

They made their way to the large “captain’s table”, where captain Archer, in his dress uniform, was sitting with Mackay, Pecile, and a number of celebrity families. Henry van Statten saw them approaching and left his seat to greet them.

 

‘John, Rose. I saw the mission report on that village in Hampshire. Did you get a resolution to that incident?’

 

John and Rose accepted his handshake. ‘Hi Henry,’ Rose said. ‘Not yet. We’re waiting to hear back from the Shadow Proclamation.’

 

‘Let’s hope they can come up with something. We don’t want aliens thinking they can just turn up and put whole communities to sleep when they feel like it,’ van Statten said. ‘It was bad enough when they came and abducted people.’

 

He turned to Pete. ‘And Pete and Jackie. It’s good to see you again. I think it was your sixty fifth birthday party in New York when we last met.’

 

Pete shook his hand. ‘That’s right. How’s the consumer electronics market these days?’

 

‘Pretty good thanks. It helps when you have some talented kids fresh out of college producing tech that people want to buy,’ van Statten said with a lopsided smile. ‘And one of those kids was sponsored by your foundation.’

 

‘Who was that?’ Pete asked.

 

‘A young man called Adam Knight.’

 

‘Oh Adam,’ Rose said. ‘How’s he doin’?’ Adam Knight was a young alien who hadn’t known he was an alien until he saved the life of Torchwood agent André Coulthard. 

 

‘You know him?’ van Statten asked. ‘Why does that not surprise me? He’s a genius with micro electronics. He can literally create a new microprocessor in his sleep. We took him on as an apprentice, and he worked with the team that produced the A.I housekeeping robots on this very ship.’

 

Pete laughed. ‘That’s ironic. You won the contract with the help of an apprentice which we sponsored.’

 

Henry laughed with him. ‘Yeah. But Cybus Industries got the lucrative automated maintenance systems contract. So I think we can call it a draw.’

 

They joined the other diners at the table, where Alan Bond was chatting to Archer about his career.

 

‘Well, it was the usual route really,’ Archer said. ‘I was an air force pilot when I applied to NASA for astronaut training. I made the grade and eventually did a three month tour of duty on the ISS. When I heard about the Space Plane project and the Lunar Conveyor, I put my name forward. And here I am.’

 

‘So what’s your tour of duty on the Conveyor?’ Richard Branson asked.

 

‘One month on the Conveyor with the option of a month at Peary Base,’ Archer said with a smile. ‘Of course, I’m going to take the option. I just love it out here.’

 

‘I know exactly what you mean,’ Rose said with a big smile of her own and a knowing glance at John.

 

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John, in a black tracksuit with white stripes, and Rose, in a pink tracksuit with white stripes, were jogging around the half mile circumference of the habitat ring, trying to burn off some of the calories from the slap up meal they had enjoyed the night before. Pete and Jackie had taken the kids to a cyber cafe for breakfast, where they were now enjoying playing a networked kart racing game in virtual reality.

 

Various people they jogged past would say “good morning”, and a few people were jogging themselves. After four laps of the “wheel”, they finished at the glass fronted cafe and stepped inside where they flopped down in chairs at a table next to Pete and Jackie.

 

‘Enjoy yer run did ya?’ Jackie asked.

 

Rose smiled at her. ‘Yeah. It’s interestin’, because if ya run that way . . .’ She pointed in John’s direction. ‘With the rotation of the ship, it’s like runnin’ downhill.’

 

‘And if you run against the rotation,’ John said, pointing towards Rose. ‘It’s like running uphill.’

 

‘Why’s that then?’ Jackie asked.

 

‘Inertia,’ Rose explained. ‘We are all travellin’ at about thirty miles an hour with the rotation. If you run against it, you’re runnin’ against your own inertia.’

 

‘Oh. Right,’ Jackie said.

 

‘What do you want for breakfast?’ John asked Rose.

 

‘Er. I’ll have a bowl of muesli and a skinny latte please.’

 

‘So how do yer know all this science stuff then?’ Jackie asked her daughter as John went to the counter. ‘I mean, yer never paid any attention to it at school.’

 

‘Over the years I’ve just sort of picked things up from John through our telepathic link. I kinda know stuff without knowin’ I know it. John reckons I could get a doctorate without really tryin’.’ Rose told her.

 

‘Well. Who’d have thought it. My daughter, a genius.’

 

‘Me for one,’ Pete said with his proud “dad” smile.

 

John returned with a tray of breakfasts, and put the bowls, milk, and cups of coffee on the table, before putting the tray on the receptacle over the waste bin.

 

‘What did you have?’ Rose asked as she looked into his bowl.

 

‘Porridge . . . and this,’ he replied as he took a banana out of his pocket. He proceeded to slice the banana into the porridge and stir it in. He ate a spoonful and grinned. ‘Ooh. That’s top banana!’

 

Rose rolled her eyes and laughed as she poured the milk over her mixed fruit muesli and had a mouthful. She looked over to the children and saw that they had finished their game and were now looking out of the window at the large waxing moon which was rolling around like a ball in a slow washing machine. Tony and Eyulf were trying to identify individual craters from a spotters guide on a tablet PC.

 

‘Don’t forget we’re doing the tour this morning you two,’ Pete said as he sipped his mocha.

 

‘Oh yeah,’ Rose said. ‘We haven’t forgotten. We’ll finish up here, go and grab a quick shower, and then we’ll meet you at reception, yeah?’

 

'Okay. But if yer late, we’ll go without ya,’ Jackie told them.

 

John gave a little laugh at her joke, before he saw her raise an eyebrow and give him THAT look. She wasn't joking.

 

'Er, eat up Rose. We don't want to be late,’ John said, scooping up the last of his banana porridge. They slurped down their drinks and headed for the door.

 

‘See you later kids,’ Rose called out as they jogged out of the cafe.

 

In their apartment, they stripped off and got in the shower together. John used the “time sense” he’d inherited from his twin in the other universe and his time management skills to assure Rose that by performing two tasks at the same time, they could have a shower and a shag and still be in time. Rose reminded him of his time keeping after their first trip in the old universe and what her mother would do to him, but was willing to risk it for a shower shag.

 

After their recreational shower, John got dressed in jeans and a black T shirt which had a logo saying “E=MC2”, with a question underneath which simply said, “Seriously?”. Rose came out of the bedroom wearing a denim skirt with boots, a red T shirt and denim jacket. She had plaited her hair into two pigtails.

 

‘Ooh, that look brings back memories,’ he said, remembering their stop over in Cardiff where Captain Jack and Mickey met for the first time.

 

Rose looked down at her clothes and smoothed down her skirt. ‘Oh yeah. Margaret the Slitheen and the Rift. Come on then, let’s go find the family.’ Hand in hand they made their way to the main reception where they had first entered the habitat ring.

 

John held his arms out as they approached the reception desk. ‘Here we are. I told you we’d make it in time.’

 

Jackie looked at her wristwatch. ‘Only just . . . Mind you, anythin’ under twelve months is good for you.’

 

Rose and Pete snorted laughs, and the kids had a fit of the giggles at the look of indignation on John’s face. Rose stroked his face and gave him a peck on the cheek. Her mum would never forgive him for that.

 

A woman approached wearing a dark blue trouser suit, the uniform of the Space Tours Consortium, a shoulder bag, whilst carrying a clipboard. ‘Hello. I’m Helen, and you must be the ten o’clock tour of the Bridge. Mister and Misses Tyler, it’s lovely to have the opportunity to meet you. And Doctor and Misses Smith, can I just say I’m such a fan of the show.’

 

John and Rose smiled. ‘Thank you,’ Rose said. ‘It’s nice to know that people appreciate the work we do at the institute.’ 

 

When Rose first came to Pete’s World, she hated the public interest in her life and the way the paparazzi followed her around, intruding in her private life. Were she and Mickey Smith an item, or was it that she was just gay? What perfume did she wear? What colour was her underwear? Over the years however, that interest had become less intrusive and more appreciative of who she and John were, and of their knowledge, skill and experience.

 

‘And these are your children,’ Helen continued. ‘You have lovely families. So, are you ready to start the tour?’

 

John gave her an enthusiastic grin. ‘Oh yeah!’ he said with childlike enthusiasm.

 

‘Shall we then?’ Helen said, extending her arm towards the elevators.

 

They stepped into the elevator, and Helen took some adjustable Velcro overshoes out of her shoulder bag. ‘If you put these on over your shoes, they’ll help you walk normally on the bridge,’

 

As the elevator ascended towards the Hub, they fitted the Velcro shoes over their own. They also felt their bodies getting lighter and lighter. As Rose fitted the shoes over her knee high boots, she looked at her short denim skirt.

 

‘Ah . . . Your daughter isn’t the genius she thought she was,’ Rose said to her mum.

 

‘Eh?’ Jackie asked.

 

‘We’re gonna be weightless, and I’m wearin’ a short skirt. Everyone’s gonna get an eyeful of me knickers,’ Rose realised.

 

‘Your point being?’ John asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.

 

Rose playfully slapped his arm. ‘Shut it you.’

 

Helen was lapping it up. They were behaving just as they did on the show. It was brilliant! ‘If you use the overshoes as you leave the elevator, you’ll always have your feet on the ground.’

 

‘Oh yeah. Thanks Helen.’

 

As the elevator doors opened, John, Pete and the kids jumped out and floated across the room. Rose stepped out, walking as though she were on thin ice, making sure one foot was stuck to the floor before lifting the other.

 

'I’m with you Sweetheart,” Jackie said as she followed her lead.

 

Helen walked alongside them, leading them to a door in the left-hand wall of the atrium. She looked over to the rest of the floating family. 'If you could make your way over to the door please.’

 

They swam, gamboled and jumped across the room, to stick their feet on the floor by the recessed door in the corner of the room. 'The captain only has one request, and that is that you keep your feet on the floor when you are on the bridge.’

 

‘Did you hear that kids?’ Rose asked, giving John a deliberate look to tell him he was included in that.

 

‘Yes Mum,’ the kids replied.

 

‘What?’ John asked in innocence. Rose just gave him a lopsided smile.

 

Helen held her I.D badge against an electronic lock sensor, and the door swished open to reveal a twenty metre long cylindrical corridor, padded with white cushion blocks, and a biscuit brown carpet leading to a door at the far end. She led the way along the corridor, their footsteps making a quiet “ripping” noise as the Velcro gripped the carpet. Once again she held her badge against the lock sensor and it swished open.

 

John, Rose and Pete immediately recognised the familiar sounds of an operations room. There was the hum of equipment, clicking of keyboards, and the hushed conversations of people exchanging information. As they stepped through the door, they saw a room which resembled mission control at NASA. They were in the corner of the room, and to their right were rows of control desks facing a window which looked out at the slowly rotating Moon. On a raised dais at the back of the room, Jonathan Archer sat on his command chair with a microgravity mug of coffee. 

 

He looked over to them, smiled, stood up and moved over to them. ‘Hi there. Welcome to the bridge of the Lunar Conveyor.’ He looked at the wide eyed children. ‘Be honest, what do you think?’

 

‘It’s awesome,’ Jason said. ‘What are all the desks for?’

 

‘Oh, good question,’ Archer said. ‘The bridge isn’t just where we fly the ship, it’s the operations centre. Helm and Navigation are over there. Communications there, Engineering, Environmental Control . . .’ He indicated the various control desks.

 

‘Where d’ya steer the ship?’ Jackie asked. ‘I don’t see a wheel or anythin’.’

 

Tony rolled his eyes. ‘Mum! It’s a spaceship. And anyway, seafaring ships haven’t had wheels for years. They have joysticks these days.’

 

Archer laughed sympathetically. ‘That’s right, although this ship flies itself.’

 

‘Flies itself?’ Juleshka asked.

 

‘Yes. It’s on a precisely calculated elliptical orbit where we constantly chase the Moon as it orbits the Earth. The navigational computers make any necessary adjustments to keep us on course.’

 

Pete frowned. ‘But you said that was Helm over there. What’s that for then?’

 

‘Occasionally we have to avoid objects in orbit, so we can change our trajectory to move around them.’

 

Eyulf had wandered over to the far side of the bridge and was looking at a large screen. ‘What’s this station here?’

 

Archer walked over to him followed by the rest of the family. ‘Ah. That’s Resources. It incorporates the Hangar, Cargo Bay, Storage and Distribution.’ The screen showed two Space Planes in the centre of the Hub.

 

‘It looks like that plane’s being dismantled,’ Juleshka said. They could see a robotic arm taking away large, disk-like sections of the fuselage. 

 

‘That’s the cargo plane Endeavour,’ Archer explained. ‘It took off before the Enterprise and rendezvoused as we approached Earth. We picked you up on the way out. The Enterprise has the passenger cabin module fitted, whereas the Endeavour has a cargo module. Each of those disks is a storage container full of consumables for the Conveyor. The disks left on the Endeavour are bound for the Moon.’

 

‘Clever,’ Pete said with a nod of appreciation.

 

‘Yeah. But of course, Doctor Smith knows all about that,’ Archer said with a grin.

 

‘Eh?’ John said.

 

‘Noordwijk, twenty eighteen,’ Archer said. ‘I was at your symposium. You sold me the dream.’

 

‘Oh right,’ John said with an open mouthed smile. ‘Brilliant!’

  
  
  



	12. A Blast From Jack’s Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the memorial service for the people of Dunwich, and there's an unexpected encounter in the church.

**Chapter 12**

  
  


**A Blast From Jack’s Past**

  
  


**St Peter’s Church, Dunwich.**

 

**Sunday, 29th September.**

  
  


The grey morning clouds complemented the grey stone of the church, and the dark sombre mood of the people stepping into the porch and through the west doorway. Donna and Shaun passed through the door into the west nave. To the right of them was the Norman stone font, and along the south wall, the dark oak door leading to the Norman tower. They walked into the central nave, following other members of the congregation, and saw their friends Richard and Janet, already seated on one of the pews with their children.

 

Donna and Shaun had a natural affinity with the Haywoods, as they were also from London, and Richard did the daily commute. They had moved to the village only a few months before Donna and Shaun, and both couples had helped each other integrate into the community. Richard stood up and allowed Donna to shuffle past so that she could sit next to Janet. Shaun shook Richard’s hand and sat beside him.

 

The church was filling up, and sombre music in minor chords drifted on the air from the organ which was to the right of the nave. Opposite the organ, was the dark oak pulpit, and the vestry. Through the chancel at the far end of the church, was a magnificent arched, stained glass window.

 

‘I think the whole village has turned out,’ Donna said in a hushed voice as she looked around. She could see the recently widowed Mrs Crankhart, whose husband had died on the steps of the inn. Donna presumed it was her daughter who was comforting her. A lot of family members who had moved away from the village to have families of their own, had come to support parents, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, or just close friends at this troubling time.

 

‘Yeah. All except those who are still in hospital recovering from falls or hypothermia,’ Janet replied.

 

Donna continued to look around and saw some khaki dress uniforms in the pews at the back of the church, along with other people she presumed were from the Grange. ‘They’ve got a nerve comin’ ‘ere,’ Donna whispered, nodding behind them.

 

‘Donna!’ Shaun whispered back. Sometimes he despaired at his wife’s judgemental attitude. ‘Don’t forget, they were affected by The Narcolepsy as well, And there’s no proof that they were responsible.’

 

The Narcolepsy was the term the villages were using for the unexplained event, after the younger members of the community typed “unexpectedly falling asleep” into Searchwise, and the first hit was “Narcolepsy-Symptoms-NHS”.

 

Donna continued to look at the UNIT officers, and had to admit that their faces and body language didn’t look as though they were sheepishly guilty of causing eleven deaths by negligence. They looked more like all the other villagers. Sad at the loss of life, and desperately wanting answers.

 

The rattle of the vestry door latch made her turn around, and she saw the Reverend Hubert Leebody walk towards the pulpit wearing his red and gold chasuble. He went behind the pulpit and climbed the few steps to stand at the lectern. He put his papers on the lectern and cleared his throat. No one noticed a tall, dark haired man in an RAF uniform, enter the church and sit at the back.

 

‘Welcome to God’s house and thank you all for coming this morning,’ Leebody started. ‘I must admit, I had trouble with that greeting. I was just going to say ladies and gentlemen, but that sounded too impersonal for such a personal service. Fellow villagers? But some of you are from further afield. Friends? Yes I would like to think we are all friends here, and so I just welcome all of you, and leave you to decide where you fit in.’

 

His sermon proceeded to name the eleven people who had died, and to give a brief summary of their lives as he knew it. He talked of the post traumatic stress that most of the congregation would be suffering from, and how they could all help each other to come to terms with what had happened and pray that the God given talents of the scientists and researchers would eventually give them the answers they were all looking for. There was an Amen to that.

 

He led them in the Lord’s prayer, and on the stroke of eleven o’clock, for the eleven victims, he called for a minutes silence. An eerie silence fell on the church, as even the young children seemed to feel the need for respectful silence in memory of the adults and a child who they would never see around the village ever again.

 

Leebody came down from the pulpit, and people stood and started to mingle, discussing the sermon and sharing memories of the people who had died. Gordon Zellaby shook Hubert’s hand and thanked him for a touching service. The reverend spoke to people, offering words of comfort, and telling them that if they needed to talk, his door was always open.

 

He moved to the back of the church where the Grange staff were waiting, not wanting to intrude in the villagers grief, and unsure of the welcome they would get. Colonel Bernard Westcott shook Hubert’s hand.

 

‘Thank you for coming Colonel,’ Hubert said. ‘I know it must be awkward for you, knowing that the village gossip is pointing a finger at the Grange.’

 

‘Yes I know, and please, call me Bernard,’ Westcott replied. ‘Some of the staff have said how the feel of the village has changed when they go into the shop or the inn. Only to be expected really when we’re the outsiders and don’t have any answers.’

 

‘That is very magnanimous of you Bernard. I am cautioning my flock on jumping to conclusions, and reminding them that you too were affected by what they are calling The Narcolepsy.’

 

‘Yes, quite. And that’s quite an apt name for what happened to us all,’ Bernard said.

 

‘Yes, and as you say, it happened to us all. If you or your staff have any problems with the residents, or if you need to talk, I have told everyone that I am here if you need me.’

 

Hubert spoke to Professor Crimm and his staff, and eventually came to the stranger in the RAF uniform.

 

‘Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood Institute,’ Jack said, shaking hands.

 

‘Ah, now I know where I have seen your face. My niece Polly, who is staying with us at the moment, watches your program . . . Thank you for coming all that way this morning,’ Hubert said.

 

‘It’s the least I could do,’ Jack replied. ‘I just wish I could do more.’

 

‘Oh don’t be silly Captain, your staff have done so much for us already. On the day of wakening, they organised the emergency services and rallied the villagers around to the village hall where they organised hot drinks and sustenance. And the counsellors you sent were a great comfort to us. They are all a credit to you.’

 

‘Thank you for those kind words Reverend. I’ll be sure to pass them on to the teams.’

 

‘Is there any progress in the investigation?’ Hubert asked hopefully.

 

‘Not as yet I’m afraid,’ Jack told him. ‘But it’s early days. Our laboratories are working through all the blood samples we took. They are also analysing the air, soil, and water samples our forensic teams collected. And there is an interplanetary investigation in progress, so please, rest assured that we are doing everything we can to find those responsible.’

 

‘Interplanetary investigation,’ Hubert repeated with a chuckle. ‘I still have difficulty coming to terms with that. It sounds so fantastical, and yet the young people accept it the same as they accept being able to record and watch videos on their phones, or chat with friends around the world as though they were in the same room.’

 

‘I know what you mean,’ Jack agreed. ‘We’ve seen some changes in our life time.’ And Jack thought about the many lifetimes he’d had in another universe.

 

As the Reverend Hubert Leebody moved away, there was a red haired woman standing behind him who was looking right at Jack.

 

‘Captain Jack Harkness isn’t it?’ she said sharply. ‘I was comin’ to see you lot tomorrow.’

 

Jack’s brain was still in the old universe, remembering his past lives, and momentarily forgot where he actually was and what had happened to that worlds Donna Noble.

 

‘DONNA!? Is that you?’ he said with an open mouthed smile.

 

Donna frowned. ‘You know me?’

 

‘Donna Noble! Of course I know you,’ and then reality hit him like a Jackie Tyler slap.

 

‘Oi!’ Donna said holding up her left hand and wiggling her fingers to display her wedding ring. ‘It’s Templeton I’ll have you know. Bein’ as I married Shaun Templeton there,’ she told him, nodding to her husband who was standing to the side of them.

 

‘Temple-TON?’ Jack queried. ‘Not Temple?’

 

‘Yes. Temple-TON,’ Donna reiterated. She leaned towards Shaun. ‘He seems a lot sharper on the telly. It must be clever edittin’.’

 

‘Er, sorry. Yes. Donna Templeton. Of course you are.’ He turned to Shaun. ‘Nice to meet you Shaun Templeton,’ he said shaking hands, which left Donna wondering why it felt as though Jack Harkness was flirting with her husband. ‘Sorry. You look just like someone I used to know.’

 

‘And her name was Donna Noble as well was it?’ Donna asked with just a hint of disbelief.

 

‘Erm, yes. What are the chances?’

 

‘Quite a coincidence,’ Shaun agreed. ‘Although, if you think of DNA like lottery numbers, if you have seven billion draws, the probability of getting the same sequence of numbers twice is quite high.’

 

‘What are you on about?’ Donna asked.

 

‘Probabilities,’ Shaun tried to explain. ‘With seven billion people on earth, the chances of having a double are quite high.’

 

‘Yeah. Well, a bit of a coincidence if you ask me,’ Donna said.

 

Jack smiled. ‘I quite agree. And I know one particular scientist who would be delighted to tell you just how much of a coincidence it was. So, do you live in Dunwich?’

 

‘Yes. Just over three years now,’ Shaun replied.

 

‘And you said you were going to visit Torchwood tomorrow?’ Jack asked.

 

‘Well yeah. I was goin’ to demand some answers for the villagers. Y’know, get some closure.’

 

Jack smiled to himself. Different universe, same Donna. ‘Well I’m afraid I don’t have any answers for you.’ He saw their faces drop. ‘But I can bring you up to speed with what we know so far. Would that help?’

 

Donna looked at Shaun and then back to Jack. ‘Er, yeah. If that’s okay with you.’

 

‘Good. That’s settled then. Does that Inn across the Green do Sunday lunch? We could eat as I explain where we are in the investigation.’

 

Donna linked her arm through Jack’s and guided him towards the door. ‘They do a lovely roast dinner. And try the Monk’s Ale, you’ll love it.’

  
  


+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

  
  


**Lunar Conveyor.**

 

**100,000 miles from Earth.**

  
  


The Smith’s and Tyler’s were on the bridge of the Lunar Conveyor, enjoying a tour of the high tech facility. Rose’s phoned vibrated in her skirt pocket to alert her to an incoming text message.

 

‘Are mobile phones okay in here,’ she asked Captain Archer as she took the phone out of her pocket. She knew that some airlines didn’t like them to be used on airships, although there was no evidence that they had any effect on the electronics.

 

Archer smiled. ‘Yes, they’re fine. All communications are beamed to and from earth via the satellite dishes, and the frequencies don’t interfere with any of the systems.’

 

Rose unlocked the screen and read the message. ‘It’s from Alice. She says Jack has gone to a memorial service at Dunwich this mornin’ and they are havin’ a minute’s silence at eleven o’clock.’

 

Everyone on the bridge looked at the clocks on the wall. There was one for each time zone on Earth, and the ship itself worked on Greenwich Mean Time, as did the bases on the moon. The clock which had “London” under it said it was ten minutes to eleven.

 

‘I heard about that on the news broadcast,’ Archer said. ‘As a mark of respect, I’ll make a ship wide announcement and ask everyone to observe the silence.’

 

‘That’s very kind of you Captain,’ Pete said.

 

‘No problem.’ Archer made his way back to his command chair with the rip-rip-rip sound of his Velcro shoes on the carpet, and activated the intercom. ‘Attention all passengers and crew. This is the captain speaking. In memory of the victims of Dunwich village in Great Britain, we will be observing a minutes silence at eleven hundred hours, and invite you to join us in showing your support for that small community. Captain out.’

 

Rose texted Alice Dimaggio back to let her know that they would be observing the silence in solidarity with everyone on the ground. A few minutes later, she received a text back saying how pleased she was and she had let Jack know. Captain Archer continued to give them the tour of the bridge, when one of the bridge crew announced that it was one minute to eleven.

 

‘Attention all passengers and crew. This is the captain speaking. It is approaching eleven hundred hours. Thank you for participating in this act of remembrance.’

 

The captain and his guests bowed their heads as they thought about the unfortunate people who had died in the village. The bridge crew continued with the vital functions of the Conveyor, but did so in respectful silence. When sixty seconds had passed, he activated the intercom and simply said “Thank you”.

  
  


+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

  
  


‘This food is wonderful,’ Jack said as they ate their lunches. ‘And it’s so quaint in here. Reminds me of this little place I knew back in . . .’ He was going to say the eighteen nineties, but thought better of it. He looked over to the bar. ‘It’s a nice little establishment you’ve got here Mrs W.’

 

‘Thank you Captain. The locals like it,’ Mrs Williams replied. ‘I try to keep it nice and homely.’

 

Jack turned his attention back to Donna and Shaun. ‘So you weren’t in the village when it was attacked?’

 

‘Attacked?’ Donna said. ‘That makes it sound even worse.’

 

‘Well, from our point of view, the village was attacked with a weapon which rendered everyone unconscious for reasons unknown,’ Jack explained.

 

‘The locals are calling it The Narcolepsy,’ Shaun told him.

 

‘Hmm. Good name.’

 

‘In answer to your question, no we weren’t in the village. We were in the Maldives,’ said Donna.

 

‘Right. Well the official time of The Narcolepsy was twenty two seventeen. There was no warning. We’ve looked back at satellite data, seismic activity, electromagnetic signals, and everything we can think of, and there was nothing,’ Jack started. ‘Rose Smith took a call from UNIT who had lost contact with the Grange and had sent a platoon to investigate.’

 

‘What’s Rose really like,’ Donna asked, unable to curtail her enthusiasm for celebrity.

 

‘She’s an amazing person, as is her husband the Doctor. They make an incredible team, both at home and at work. I knew them before they even joined Torchwood,’ Jack told them, and then had a brainwave. ‘Would you like to meet them? Because I’m sure they would LOVE to meet you.’

 

Donna’s mouth fell open. ‘No way! Seriously? You’d set up a meeting with John and Rose Smith?’

 

Jack gave her one of his perfect smiles. ‘Trust me, I can’t tell you why right now, but they will be as excited to meet you as you are to meet them. As you’re such a fan, you probably know they’re out of town at the moment, but if you give me your number, I’ll get them to give you a call when they get back.’

 

Donna was fit to explode with excitement. ‘You, are going to give John and Rose Smith, my number . . . Brilliant!’

 

Jack had finished his lunch and put his knife and fork on the plate. He had a little chuckle. ‘So, back to The Narcolepsy. Doctor Smith used satellite and aerial imaging to define the edges of the affected area, and we sent a team in to stand vigil until we could get into the village. Agent Williams bravely, but unsuccessfully tried to rescue a police officer who was becoming dangerously hypothermic.’

 

‘What? Legs? Was she all right?’ Donna asked.

 

‘Yes. John pulled her out with a robot and she woke up with no ill effects. He then went on to examine the village with one of our surveillance tools, and found the body on the steps just outside here.’

 

‘Harry Crankhart,’ Shaun informed him.

 

Jack nodded. ‘The night shift used the robot to recover his body and send it to the local hospital mortuary. When John returned the next day, he’d brought some more sensitive equipment which he attached to the robot and went off in search of the culprits. We think he disturbed them, because when he found some unusual readings, everyone woke up and the perpetrators had gone.’

 

‘And that was in the abbey?’ Shaun asked.

 

‘Yes. Everyone thought it would be the Grange, including me, but John correctly identified the abbey as the epicentre. We’ve taken samples from all around there for analysis.’

 

‘So we’ve just got to wait for the results of all the test then,’ Donna realised.

 

‘‘Fraid so. And even then, there’s no guarantee that we will get enough to catch those responsible. We’ve reported the incident to the Shadow Proclamation, and they’re searching their extensive records, looking for similar attacks.’

 

‘That’s the outer space police, yeah?’ Donna asked.

 

Jack smiled. ‘Someone’s been paying attention to the show. That’s right. They’ll let us know if they find anything. So as you can see, this is far from over.’

 

‘Thank you for your time Jack. That’s been very reassuring,’ Donna said.

 

‘Any time. It’s been my pleasure. And hopefully we’ll meet again when you come to Torchwood to meet John and Rose.’

 

‘That’s a date.’

 

Jack gave her a lopsided smile. ‘Er, no. I think you’ll find that’s an appointment.’

 


	13. Tranquillity Base

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After hurtling through space, they finally arrive at the Moon for their vacation.

**Chapter 13**

 

**Tranquillity Base**

  
  
  


After two days of hurtling through space, the Lunar Conveyor was falling towards the Moon. The passengers had enjoyed all the services available to them, and were now seated in the Enterprise waiting for departure. There was the same air of anticipation on board that there had been before the launch from Chimborazo Spaceport. Everyone was strapped in their seats, waiting for the magnetic acceleration platform to launch them from the rear of the Conveyor. The cargo ship Endeavour had launched previously and was already docking at the Tranquillity Settlement Warehouse.

 

As they were in microgravity of the hub, when the Enterprise was pushed forwards, everyone felt as though they were lying on their backs and travelling up through the hub. Once clear of the Conveyor, the Enterprise turned through one eighty degrees, and Mackay fired the Synergistic Rocket Engine. Once again, people were pushed back into their seats as the ship decelerated backwards towards the Moon. The Lunar Conveyor would pass behind the Moon at an altitude of 70 miles, and pick up another Space Plane which would carry staff, scientific experiments, and waste products for recycling, back home to Earth.

 

When the Enterprise had slowed to fifty miles an hour, Mackay turned it again so it would approach the landing strip head on. There was no atmosphere to create lift under the wings, so it was just a case of letting the ship fall under the effect of the low gravity. And the passengers were now aware of that low gravity, which was independent of the ship’s manoeuvering. They could also see the bright terrain of the lunar landscape as it moved past the windows. Mackay was using thrusters to align with the magnetic deceleration track, which would catch the ship and gently bring it to a halt without using any fuel.

 

Tranquillity Settlement was a large, roughly circular building, made up of a number of triangular modules which had been constructed at Peary Base Construction Facility and carried to Tranquillity Settlement by lunar “gecko” shuttle craft. The hotels were hexagonal, multi storey buildings standing on top of the single storey base, which afforded the guests magnificent views over the lunar landscape. A long passage led from the base to a doughnut shaped observation lounge which encircled the Eagle Lunar Excursion Module, the site of the first humans to land on the Moon.

 

The landing site was still in the vacuum of space to preserve the footprints, the flag, the camera, the experiments, and the superstructure of the Eagle. A detailed replica of the ascent stage had been lovingly recreated and assembled on top of the descent stage which had been left behind. Visitors could walk around the transparent observation lounge and appreciate the adventurous spirit of those early pioneers.

 

Also, Little West Crater had been converted into a lunar version of the Eden Project, with a transparent, geodesic dome roof and a number of arboreal habitats arranged inside. On the plain, there were also acres of hydroponic greenhouses which grew food for the base and produced oxygen as part of the life support systems.

 

Away from the settlement for safety reasons, the magnetic deceleration track ran across the plain to the Space Port, a building that would be familiar to any seasoned traveller on Earth, except that there was only ever one arrival and departure every couple of days. The passengers made their way through the airlock tunnel into the concourse of the terminal building, carrying their hand luggage with them.

 

‘Ooh, this is nice,’ Jackie said as they looked around the spacious concourse. ‘Very “arty”.’

 

The geodesic domed roof was constructed from a number of coral-like hexagonal struts, which were supported on columns wrapped in lighting panels. The effect was to give the appearance that the roof was supported on columns of light.

 

Juleshka was bouncing on her toes, testing the Moon’s gravity. 

‘Watch this Mum,’ she said and leaped into the air, tucking her knees into her chest and sailing over her brothers heads in a triple somersault, landing with her arms out and a cheeky grin on her face.

 

Pete and Jackie applauded. ‘Oh well done Sweetheart,’ said Jackie.

 

‘Yeah, well done,’ Rose said uncertainly. ‘But I’m not sure gymnastics is allowed in a public space.’

 

‘With the low gravity, it’s difficult to curb a child’s enthusiasm,’ a receptionist said at the arrivals desk they were approaching. ‘And some adults,’ she added. ‘We just ask people to be aware of other pedestrians.’

 

‘Did you hear that kids?’ John said to his children. ‘Be careful when you’re trying out the low gravity.’

 

‘Okay Dad.’

 

‘Doctor and Misses Smith isn’t it?’ the receptionist asked them.

 

‘That’s right,’ John replied.

 

‘I love the show,’ the receptionist said with a sheepish smile, referring to Torchwood documentary. ‘And it’s Mister and Misses Tyler isn’t it.’

 

‘That’s right Love,’ Jackie said.

 

‘Welcome to Tranquillity. You have apartments on the top floor of the Hilton, with amazing views over the Sea of Tranquillity,’ she told them as she handed over their key cards and information packs. ‘There are maps on the back of the brochures and there are a number of ways to get about. There are the travelators over there,’ she informed them as she indicated a moving walkway. ‘You can see the tube train station over there, or there are the driverless buggies parked over there.’ 

 

‘Thank you,’ John said and turned to his family. ‘So what do you fancy?’

 

‘Driverless buggy!’ the children said with glee, running to the charging area where a variety of electric “golf carts” were parked.

 

John and Rose sat in the front of an eight seater model and the dashboard lit up. The children squeezed onto the padded bench seat in the middle, whilst Pete and Jackie climbed into the rear of the vehicle.

 

[‘Please state your destination,’] the buggy instructed.

 

‘Er, the Hilton Hotel please,’ Rose said, instinctively leaning forwards to speak to the dashboard.

 

[‘You have selected the Hilton hotel. The journey will take approximately five minutes. Please keep all limbs inside the vehicle whilst it is in motion.’]

 

The buggy hummed quietly along the wide, spacious passageway, made up of a string of triangular units connected together to form a straight corridor. They passed people who were being carried along by the travelator, and at regular intervals there were windows which allowed views of the lunar landscape and glimpses of the base they were approaching. The buggy left the passageway and entered a large, circular shopping mall with wide avenues leading away from the central hub.

 

As the buggy drove around the mall, they saw escalators leading down to floors below, where more shops waited for customers to visit. Rose thought the mall was rather quiet, and then rolled her eyes at herself as she realised why. All the people who had just arrived on the Enterprise would be the first customers. News crews, who had arrived earlier in the week with the staff and deliveries, were conducting interviews with the store managers and presenters were doing their pieces to camera.

 

‘They’ve got all the big stores look,’ Jackie said as they made their way along. ‘Selfridges. Henricks. Oh and look, Bloomingdale's. I remember that from when we came to visit when you were settin’ up Torchwood New York.’

 

‘Yeah. It’s a right little home from home,’ Rose said.

 

The buggy turned off down one of the avenues and came to a glass wall that had the Hilton “H” logo and the name “Hilton” etched into it. Through the glass they could see the plush reception area of their hotel. They climbed out of the buggy, and the glass doors swished open as they approached. After checking in and getting their key cards, they took the lift to the tenth floor.

 

They stepped out into a concourse decorated with expensive, flocked wallpaper, with comfy chairs and occasional tables positioned against the walls. Several doors led to penthouse apartments beyond, and the area was subtly lit with wall lights.

 

Rose checked the numbers on the key cards. ‘That one’s yours Mum,’ she said, pointing to a door. ‘And this one’s ours.’

 

She put the card in the slot of the lock and the door swished open. ‘Oh, this is nice.’

 

The children hurried through the open plan living area to the windows opposite. ‘Cor. Look at that!’ Jason said as he pressed his nose up against the glass. The adults strolled over to join them, looking around at the apartment as they did.

 

‘Did Rockwell design these apartments as well?’ Jackie asked as she admired the decor.

 

‘Nah. Ian Schrager did the hotels,’ Pete answered.

 

‘Who’s he?’ Rose asked.

 

John answered that question. ‘American entrepreneur, hotelier and real estate developer, often associated with co-creating the Boutique Hotel category of accommodation. He’s here with his family as well.’

 

‘Hah! Will you look at that,’ Pete said as he looked out over the Sea of Tranquillity. ‘I remember seeing those fuzzy images on the telly from the first moon landing when I was a kid. Who’d have thought that as a pensioner, I’d be standing here looking at the very same view?’

 

John put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised, that in a few years time, we’ll be standing on Mars looking out at a view we saw from those rovers.’

 

‘You reckon?’ Pete asked with raised eyebrows.

 

John gave him a cheeky smile and raised a thumb. ‘You can trust me on this’.

 

‘So where’s the Earth then?’ Jackie asked, looking out at the black sky over the grey landscape.

 

John leaned his head against the window and looked up. ‘You can just see it up there. Because the Moon always has the same face towards the Earth, the Earth is always in the same position in the sky.’

 

‘Oh yeah. I’d never thought about that before,’ Rose said. 

 

‘Y’mean you two never went to the Moon in the other universe?’ Jackie asked, meaning her daughter and the original Doctor. John and Rose knew what she meant though, as John had all of the original Doctor’s memories.

 

‘Nah,’ replied Rose. ‘There were a couple of occasions where he went with Martha, but we never made it until now. And to be here at the start of it all is brilliant.’

 

‘Yer right there Sweetheart. C’mon, let’s go and have a look at our apartment,’ Jackie said.

 

The Tyler’s apartment was a copy of the Smith’s, except for a different view of the Sea of Tranquillity out of the windows. Rose and John went back to their apartment to unpack their bags, while the children surfed the television channels in the living room.

 

Tony switched on his tablet PC, and logged on to the free WiFi Hotspot. He then signed in to FaceBlog and called one of his friends. A fifteen year old boy with dishevelled brown hair appeared on the screen.

 

‘Hey Jamie. You’ll never guess where I am,’ said Tony.

 

Jamie knew exactly where he was. After a couple of seconds, he replied. [‘We saw your flight on the news. You made it then.’]

 

‘Yeah, check this out.’ Tony went to the window of the apartment and did a selfie, with the lunar landscape behind him. ‘Can you see?’

 

There was another two second pause as the signal travelled to Earth, and then the reply arrived. [‘Oh man. That is SO cool.’]

 

‘I know. I can hardly believe I’m here. And we’ve got penthouse apartments.’ Tony panned his tablet around the room.

 

After two seconds, Jamie replied. [‘Oh. Hello Mister and Misses Tyler, Doctor and Misses Smith.’]

 

‘Hi / hello Jamie,’ came a chorus of replies.

 

‘Watch this Jamie,’ Juleshka said, and leaped into the air, tucked into a double somersault, and landed back on the same spot. 

 

[‘Oh that’s brilliant. I hope you’re going to do a Moon blog,’] Jamie said. [‘Hey. You could do a podcast.’]

 

‘That’s not a bad idea,’ Pete said. ‘It’d be good advertising for the resort.’

 

‘We could all be in it,’ EJ suggested.

 

‘Oh that’s a great idea Sweetheart,’ said Rose.

 

‘Okay Jamie, I’ll try and do one at the end of each day. Let everyone know on our group,’ Tony said.

 

[‘Okay mate. See you soon.’]

 

After both families had unpacked, they went back down to the foyer and left the hotel. There were a number of the driverless buggies parked in the charging spaces, and further down the concourse was a stop for the tube train.

 

‘Why don’t we take the tube to the entertainment district?’ Pete suggested.

 

‘Yeah, go on then,’ Rose said, and they wandered down to the glass sliding doors, which curved from floor to ceiling to match the curve of the transport tube.

 

In less than a minute, a cylindrical travelpod arrived and the doors slid open.

 

‘It’s just like the underground back home,’ EJ commented. ‘But more high tech.’

 

‘At least the map is simpler,’ Jackie said as she looked above the door at the map of stops along the way. A green light indicated their present location as it moved along the line.

 

The travelpod arrived in the central concourse which they had driven through earlier, and they disembarked. It was busier than it was earlier, as all the passengers were now milling about, browsing the stores and shopping.

 

‘I wonder what shops are on the other levels?’ Rose asked as they approached the glass railing which ran around the edge of the three storey “well”.

 

‘Why don’t we find out,’ Tony said, heading towards one of the cylindrical glass elevators. ‘We could go to the bottom and work our way up.’

 

‘Works for me,’ said Pete, and stepped into the glass elevator.

 

They followed him in, and he pressed the lowest button marked “1”. The elevator silently descended, and they saw more shops and stores on each level before it came to a halt on the lowest level.

 

‘Hey, look,’ Juleshka called out. ‘That’s Hamleys. Just like it is in Regent Street.’

 

She was right. The store front had been modelled to exactly replicate the London store, complete with an imitation, weathered, white stone facade, hanging baskets, and the red awnings with the store logo. But that wasn’t all. When they stepped inside, they realised the interior was also identical. It was only the one sixth gravity that gave the game away that they weren’t on Earth.

 

Eventually, they worked their way back up to the ground level and wandered along to an area which had bars, restaurants, and fast food outlets. Many of them had tables and chairs out on the street, and they decided to stop for lunch at a small cafe.

Whilst they were waiting for their food, Pete said he had a surprise for them and went inside the cafe. When he returned, he was carrying a tray with bottles and glasses on it.

 

‘Here we are,’ he announced, putting the tray on the table. ‘Limited edition Vitex drinks. Only available on the Moon, and for the adults, our first alcopop.’

 

Rose picked up one of the bottles and read the label. ‘Moonshine. Oh Dad. That’s brilliant. What’s in it.’

 

‘Trade secret,’ he told her. ‘In fact, the whole project has been kept under wraps until today. Nobody on Earth knows it exists and you can only get it on the Moon.’

 

‘Clever marketing ploy,’ John said. ‘Word gets out on social media, spreads like wildfire, and you’ve got yourself a product which has cult status.’

 

‘Ooh, and it’s lovely,’ Jackie said, having a sip from her bottle.

 

‘Can I have a taste?’ Jason asked, feeling a bit left out.

 

‘Just a taste then,’ John said, and he poured a mouthful into each of their glasses. Tony was just old enough to officially drink alcohol, so he poured one for himself.

 

‘Hello,’ a young, dark haired woman said with an Australian accent, as she stood by their table. She wore an apron, and had a tray with plates of toasted sandwiches. ‘I’m Kathy, the owner, and I already know who you are.’

 

They all greeted her as she put the tray down, and they helped themselves to the sandwiches they had ordered.

 

‘If you own this place, then I assume that you’re going to be here a while then,’ John said as he bit into his banana toastie.

 

‘Yeah. As long as I have customers and can make a living,’ she told him.

 

John gave her one of his open mouthed smiles. ‘Brilliant. That makes you one of the first lunar colonists.’

 

‘Oh yeah. I suppose it does. I hadn’t thought of it like that,’ she said with a smile.

 

‘Where were you before?’ Rose asked.

 

‘Alice Springs. I had this little diner on Stuart Highway,’ Kathy explained. ‘A passing customer came in one day and started chatting about how his company was running a lottery for anyone who wanted to work in their warehouse on the Moon. He also told me how Tranquillity was looking for independent traders to start up businesses. I was already living in a town surrounded by desert, so I thought “why not”. I made some enquiries, and here I am.’

 

‘Hah. Pioneers,’ John said enthusiastically. ‘They tamed the Wild West, they settled Australia, and now they’ll colonise the Moon.’

 

Kathy was the first of many colonists that they met over the next couple of days. Most of the large businesses had staff who had volunteered for short term rotation, giving everyone on Earth a chance to work on the Moon. Other staff looked on it as a chance for a fresh start, similar to people who emigrated to another country for a better quality of life. And then there were the independent traders, who had sold up on Earth and were looking for new opportunities on the Moon.

 

On the fourth day, which was Friday, the Lunar Conveyor returned, and the Enterprise and Endeavour left for Earth. The Intrepid and Fortitude Space Planes arrived, bringing supplies and another one hundred guests. They were a mixture of famous actors, television personalities and sports stars; along with less well known, but just as successful businessmen, doctors, lawyers, and anyone else who had been able to afford to pre book a ticket. With two hundred visitors at the base, along with the off duty personnel, the shopping mall was now starting to look like any busy mall on Earth.

  
  
  
  



	14. Something In The Water?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the Torchwood laboratories makes a discovery which has serious implications. Jack and Alice travel to Dunwich to break the news, wishing that John would hurry up and get back.

**Chapter 14**

 

**Something In The Water?**

  
  
  


**Clinical Investigation Department.**

 

**Torchwood Tower.**

  
  


The Torchwood Clinical Investigation Department was comprised of the Clinical Chemistry Laboratory, and the Histopathology Laboratory. Together they performed an array of tests on organic samples sent to them. The department accepted samples from the Torchwood Hospital Wing, from subjects involved in Torchwood investigations, and from external sources such as other hospitals and police laboratories.

 

In the Clinical Chemistry Laboratory, the blood analyzer was running a battery of tests on the samples received from the inhabitants of Dunwich. The whole process was automated, and the results recorded on a computer. The results were then checked by a clinical scientist for any abnormalities.  Abnormal values that were not clinically significant were displayed as amber, and dangerous values were shown in red.

 

Helen Atkins was the clinical scientist on duty, and she was bringing up each patient’s file and checking if there were any results that needed to be flagged to a clinician for urgent treatment. The few she had checked so far had low glucose levels, but that was to be expected as the patients had fasted for 36 hours. The levels would have been even lower if they hadn’t been given hot, sugary drinks and biscuits.

 

The next file she looked at was a male patient in his fifties, and he had a raised prostate specific antigen, an indicator used to detect prostate cancer. She ticked the “urgent referral” box on the screen, which would alert his General Practitioner, Doctor Willers, and alert the outpatients department of Trayne Hospital. 

 

The next patient record caught her attention. It was a thirteen year old girl, and she checked the name. Mary Histon. She had the  human chorionic gonadotrophin hormone present in her blood sample. To put it bluntly, she was pregnant.

 

‘Poor thing,’ Helen said to herself. She hoped that her boyfriend would be mature enough to do the right thing by her, and that their parents were understanding and supportive. She  ticked the box to notify Doctor Willers, as he would have to coordinate her antenatal care.

 

In another file, the elderly patient had abnormal renal function, but when Helen accessed the patient record, she saw that the patient was known to have chronic kidney disease and was being treated for it. A couple of patients had low heamoglobin and she ticked the  “notify GP” box again,  to notify Doctor Willers to follow up and treat.

 

‘Ooh, what are the chances?’ Helen said as she found another sample with  human chorionic gonadotrophin hormone present. She checked the name.  Ferrelyn Zellaby. It was a brilliant name, and she was twenty one. Again, she ticked the  “notify GP” box.

 

When the third human chorionic gonadotrophin hormone turned up, she jokingly thought it must be something in the water. Maybe the village had experienced a power cut one evening and there wasn’t much to do in the village. That sample though was from a member of staff at the Grange. She was one of the scientists, Doctor  Margaret Haxby, thirty four years old.

 

The fourth pregnant patient had Helen heading for her supervisor’s office. ‘Rick, have you got a minute?’ 

 

Richard Mortimer was the lead clinical scientist with a doctorate in biochemistry. Although he was in his late forties, he had a youthful appearance, with a full head of wavy brown hair, and a body toned by training for, and competing in triathlons.

 

‘Sure Helen. What can I do for you?’

 

‘It’s these samples from Dunwich . . .’

 

‘Oh. Have you found something Special Operations can act on?’ he asked hopefully.

 

‘Not exactly, no. It’s just that four of the female patients I’ve checked so far are pregnant.’

 

‘Four?’  Rick asked with a frown. ‘That’s a bit of a coincidence.’

 

‘Yeah, and there’s more. One of the patients is only thirteen,’ she explained.

 

He gave her a lopsided smile. ‘Well, I’ve heard what they say about these country folk and their ways.’

 

‘Not funny Rick,’ Helen scolded. ‘She’s just a child.’

 

‘Sorry. You’re right. That was inappropriate. But this can’t be connected to the incident at Dunwich, it takes at least six days for the hCG hormone to show up after fertilization.’

 

‘Yes, I know. But we don’t know what went on in that day and a half when the village was asleep, do we,’ she pointed out.

 

‘Good point.’ He stood from behind his desk, and Helen led the way to the computer where she had been working. 

 

‘Okay. Filter the results for females of childbearing age,’ he instructed.

 

Helen ticked the “female box” on the menu screen, and typed in the age ranges she wanted to look at. Fifty three patient files came up on the screen.

 

Rick whistled. ‘Fifty three. I thought it was supposed to be a small village.’

 

‘It is,’ Helen replied. ‘You’re probably thinking of a hamlet.’

 

‘Oh, right,’ he said, standing corrected. ‘Well, let’s make a start. Who’s first?’

 

Helen selected the first file. ‘Elizabeth Brant, misses.’ She scrolled down the file. ‘Pregnant.’ She ticked the  “notify GP” box.

 

She continued down the list. ‘Jane Crankhart, recently widowed . . . Pregnant, and she’s fifty one. Rachel Daniels, she’s the community nurse . . . and she’s also pregnant.’

 

Rick straightened up. ‘Keep going through the list. I’ve got to make a phone call.’

 

He went through to his office and picked up the phone. He dialled hospital wing and waited for the pick up.

 

[Hospital Reception. Joe speaking,’] a pleasant young woman’s voice announced.

 

‘It’s Rick Mortimer in Clinical Chemistry. Can you tell me which doctor is in charge this morning?’

 

[‘Just a moment please . . . It’s Doctor Marla Jones. Would you like me to page her?’] Joe asked.

 

‘Yes please. I’ll hold.’ A very good rendition of “Spring” by Vivaldi played whilst the receptionist paged Marla Jones.

 

Doctor Marla Jones was on duty in the outpatients clinic of the Hospital Wing, seeing members of staff who had a variety of conditions that either needed treatment, or were being followed up after treatment. She had started at Torchwood as a house officer when she had qualified, having been rescued from an alien abduction by John and Rose Smith. She was now a specialist registrar in emergency medicine and xeno-physiology.

 

She was examining a patient’s hands. ‘That rash has cleared up nicely.’

 

‘Yeah, that cream was brilliant,’ the young man from Animal Management told her.

 

‘Good. Next time, remember to use protective gloves before you try to pick up a Kimbaran egg,’ she advised.

 

‘Will do Doc. I’ve learnt my lesson.’ As a new recruit to the department which recovered alien creatures, he still had a lot to learn.

 

Marla’s pager beeped for her attention, and she looked at the number. ‘Okay. That should be the end of it, but if the rash does come back, just apply some of the cream. If you’ll excuse me, I have to answer this page.’

 

The patient nodded and left as she picked up the phone and dialled the number.

 

[‘Clinical Chemistry. Rick speaking.’]

 

‘It’s Marla Jones, you paged me.’

 

[‘Hi Marla. Thanks for getting back to me so quick. Have you got a minute to come up to the lab. We’ve got a bit of an incident with some blood samples.’]

 

‘What kind of incident?’ Marla asked.

 

[‘I think we might have an actual case of xenogenesis,’] Rick said, with a hint of awe in his voice.

 

‘Really? Where’s the patient?’

 

[‘It’s not patienT, it’s patientS,’] he said, emphasising the last letters. [‘Eight confirmed, and possibly fifty three.’]

 

‘Fifty three! I’ll be right up.’ she went to find one of the junior registrars to cover her clinic.

  
  


Ten minutes after the phone call, Marla was in the Clinical Chemistry lab, looking at the results on the screen. ‘Fifty one confirmed pregnancies, all from the same village?’

 

‘That’s right,’ Helen confirmed. ‘Ages ranging from thirteen to fifty six. Two women have had hysterectomies, so are unable to carry embryos.’

 

‘Right. Is anyone outside of the institute aware of this?’ Marla asked. If the press got hold of this, these women could be in danger from all sorts of conspiracy theorists.

 

‘No,’ Rick answered. ‘Although we have flagged the results to be sent to the village doctor.’

 

‘The doctor’s wife is one of the pregnancies,’ Helen added.

 

Marla bit her bottom lip. ‘This is way out of my league. I’m just a doctor. This is going to need a multidisciplinary approach. We’d best wait for our scientific advisor to get back. Meanwhile, hold off sending the results and I’ll go and have a word with the Director.’

 

Jack Harkness’s office was on the top floor of One, Canada Square, and enjoyed magnificent views over the river Thames, the O2 Arena, London City Airport, and the east of London. He wasn’t looking at the view though, he was reading through the summary of the months activity in preparation for producing the monthly Parliamentary report for the president. 

 

He caught some movement in the corner of his eye as someone approached his glass fronted office. He looked over to see the beautiful dark face of Marla Jones. She was wearing a white clinician’s coat over her purple blouse and beige skirt, and was carrying a manilla folder. Before she could knock on the glass door, he waved her to enter and stood up. He came from behind the desk and gave her a hug.

 

‘Hi Martha. How are you? I don’t see enough of you these days,’ he said as he kissed her cheek.

 

Just like John and Rose, Jack called her Martha, and she’d often thought it might be easier to change her name by deed poll. ‘Hi Jack. Well, we all know how busy you are, and I wouldn’t normally disturb you.’ She glanced at the papers on his desk. ‘But something’s come up and I need your advice.’

 

‘No problem. Have a seat. Do you want some coffee?’

 

‘No, I’m good thanks.’ She sat on the comfy sofa against the wall which Jack had indicated and he joined her.

 

‘So what can I do for you?’

 

‘It’s the Dunwich incident. We’ve got the results of the blood test, and they don’t look good,’ she began. ‘Fifty one of the females in the village are showing they have the  human chorionic gonadotrophin hormone in their bloodstreams. It’s a hormone which is produced by the placenta after the implantation of an embryo.’

 

‘They’re pregnant?’ Jack asked. ‘The whole village?’

 

‘Near enough. I don’t need to tell you what’ll happen when this gets out.’ She didn’t say if this gets out, because how can you hide fifty one pregnancies?

 

‘No. No, you were right to bring it to me. The question is, what do I do with it?’ Jack asked himself. ‘I went to the memorial service on Sunday, and they’re only just getting over the deaths of eleven of their friends and relatives. This might tip them over the edge.’

 

‘I thought it might be best to wait for John to get back. He may have seen something like this before,’ Martha suggested.

 

‘Yes. You’re probably right. They’ll be back in a few days. Only the Doc’s not known for his tact and diplomacy. I’d better go back there with Alice and have a quiet word with Doctor Willers and the Reverend Leebody,’ Jack said, referring to Alice Dimaggio, the head of the Clinical Psychology.

 

‘Willers and Leebody?’ Martha queried. She opened the folder on her lap and looked at the list inside. ‘Millicent Willers and Dora Leebody, the doctor and the reverend’s wives . . . They’re pregnant.’

 

‘Oh shit!’

  
  


+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

  
  


The village surgery in Dunwich looked like an ordinary house, except for the sign hanging on a post in the front garden saying “G.P Surgery”. Jack held his arm out for Alice to go  first, and then followed her through the front door into the small waiting room, which had several chairs arranged in rows. There was a wire rack on one wall which held a number of information leaflets, and a notice board on another with posters pinned to it. Jack briefly scanned the posters with his eyes. “This winter it’ll be no fun if you get FLU”, “Dealing with CANCER”, “Winter Awareness”, and the one that really stood out for him, “Are you a young mum or mum to be?”.

 

‘You’re all about to find out,’ Jack muttered to himself.

 

‘Can I help you?’ a woman asked through a hatch in the wall. ‘Only the morning clinic has finished now.’

 

Jack approached the hatch, put down the briefcase he was carrying, and took out his Torchwood ID. ‘Captain Jack Harkness and Doctor Alice Dimaggio. Doctor Willers is expecting us,’ he said with his perfect smile.

 

His charm seemed to have no effect. This was a GP receptionist, renowned the world over for being impervious to any guile or methods of persuasion. She looked in the diary which was on the desk below the hatch.

 

‘Ah, yes. Have a seat please and I’ll let him know you’re here.’

 

Jack tried again with his winning smile. ‘Thank you.’ Still no effect.

 

No sooner had they sat on one of the chairs, when a door leading to the rear of the house opened and Doctor Willers entered.

 

‘Captain Harkness? I’m Charles Willers,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘Did I see you at the service on Sunday? I seem to remember the uniform.’

 

Jack shook his hand. ‘The name’s Jack, and this is Alice. Yes, you’re right. I sat at the back of the church. Didn’t want to intrude on your grief.’

 

‘That was very thoughtful. Please, come through to the back.’ Charles led the way down a short hallway, past an open door which they could see was the consulting room, and into a lounge with comfortable chairs. ‘Have a seat both of you. Would you like a cup of tea? Bernie has got the kettle on. Although, from your accent Jack, I’m guessing coffee would be your favoured brew.’

 

Jack laughed politely as he sat down. ‘Coffee would be nice, thank you. White with one sugar please.’

 

‘Tea with one sugar please,’ Alice said. 

 

‘Good. Hubert should be along shortly. I’ll just go and organise the refreshments.’

 

Jack opened the briefcase and took out the printouts of the blood results for the villagers. He looked at the list of names on the front. Bernie? That would be Bernice Ogle, his receptionist and expectant unmarried mother. Hubert was the Reverend Leebody. His blood results were all normal. 

 

They heard voices in the hallway, and Charles and Hubert entered with a tray of mugs. Jack and Alice stood and shook the reverend’s hand. ‘Good to see you again Captain, and so soon. And you must be Doctor Dimaggio.’

 

‘It’s Jack, and Alice. And the blood results have turned something up that we wanted to discuss with you both face to face rather than over the phone.’

 

They all sat down, and Charles had a resigned look on his face. Being a doctor, he’d had to give patients bad news in the past, and knew you didn’t do it over the phone. ‘How bad is it?’

 

‘It’s not life threatening,’ Alice said as Jack picked up the printouts and handed them to Charles. ‘But it is life changing.’

 

They waited for Charles to examine some of the results. They’d put the women’s results at the top of the pile. He saw Charles’s face frown as he started to leaf through the sheets, looking for a single result. He stopped and looked up at Jack and Alice.

 

‘There’s no doubt? The samples weren’t contaminated or compromised?’ Charles asked, clutching at straws.

 

‘I’m afraid not,’ Jack told him.

 

‘What is it Charles?’ Hubert asked. ‘You’ve gone as white as a sheet.’

 

‘Er . . . Well, it appears that all the women of childbearing age, who were affected by The Narcolepsy . . . are pregnant,’ Charles said, struggling to believe what he had just said.

 

Hubert looked stunned. ‘What? All of them . . ? Even Dora?’

 

Charles nodded. ‘And Milly. I don’t know about you, but I could do with something a little stronger than tea.’ He stood up, went to the sideboard and opened a bottle of whisky. ‘Anyone else?’

 

Jack and Alice declined. ‘I’ll join you,’ Hubert said, and they both took a large gulp of the amber fluid.

 

‘Now, there is the chance that some of these pregnancies are naturally conceived of course, but until we can get tissue samples and compare the DNA, we won’t know,’ Jack explained.

 

‘I’m a trained counsellor,’ Alice told them. ‘I have a team that can come and support your patients as you break the news.’ She turned to the vicar. ‘Hubert, who, out of all the women on that list do you think will take the news the best?’

 

Hubert ran his eyes down the list of names. ‘Well, obviously my wife, when she has gotten over the shock. She knows her duty as the vicars wife, and she is well respected because of that.’

 

‘And Angela Zellaby,’ Charles suggested. ‘Wife of a Justice of the Peace. She is held in high esteem.’

 

Hubert nodded. ‘Although hers may be one of the naturally conceived pregnancies.’

 

‘At the moment, that won’t matter,’ Alice told them. ‘They will all be pregnant together, regardless.’

 

‘I see your point,’ Charles said. ‘Well, I supposed we’d better start spreading the news.’

 

‘I would ask you to hold off for the moment,’ Alice advised. ‘I would like our scientific advisor to review all the data first, and I can return with my team and set up a clinic somewhere in the village.’

 

‘We could use the village hall,’ Hubert suggested.

 

‘Yes. Good idea,’ Charles agreed. ‘Tell me Alice, do you think it would be all right if we told our wives?’

 

Alice smiled and reached over to hold his hand. ‘Of course Charles. That’s why I’m here. We wanted to give you and Hubert the heads up first, because you have the responsibility for the villagers physical and spiritual well being. I’ll help your wives come to terms with the news, and impress on them the need for secrecy for now.’

 

‘Thank you my dear,’ Charles said. ‘Hubert can we do this at the vicarage? I think it may be a better environment for our wives to receive the news.’

 

Hubert nodded. ‘Of course.’ 

  
  



	15. Homeward Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Smiths return from their vacation, and Amy has some good news. Or does she? A member of staff from the Grange comes to see John.

**Chapter 15**

 

**Homeward Bound**

  
  


The Smiths and the Tylers were in the busy departure lounge of Tranquility Space Port. The Lunar Conveyor was making its approach, and the cargo plane Intrepid had already departed to dock with it on its approach. The cargo plane Endeavour had already undocked from the Conveyor and would be arriving shortly. After it had landed and taxied along a branching track to the warehouse, the passenger plane Fortitude would launch to rendezvous with the Conveyor as it swung around the moon and headed back to Earth.

 

Rose took one last look around, admiring the architecture and committing it to memory. They’d had a great week. They’d dined at various restaurants from around the Earth. They had been to the leisure centre nearly every day, and the kids had loved the splash pool, which had a beach, palm trees, water slides, spray fountains, and a wave generator. She remembered how weird the water was in one sixth gravity. Their bodies had the same mass, but not the same weight, so they tended to float on top of the water. 

 

‘Y’know, it’s a shame for all the people who won’t be able to afford to come here and experience all this,’ she said.

 

John nodded his agreement. ‘Yeah, I know what you mean. I’d love to take the money we would have paid to come here, and give it to a family who can’t even afford an earthbound holiday.’

 

‘Oh, what a lovely thought,’ Jackie said.

 

Pete nodded, deep in thought. ‘Actually, that is a really good thought.’ He looked around the departure lounge and found who he was looking for. ‘Back in a minute,’ he said, and hurried through the throng of passengers. 

 

‘What’s ‘e up to now?’ Jackie asked.

 

‘RICHARD, ALAN,’ they heard him call out as he approached a group of people. ‘Ah, HENRY . . . DIMITRY, YOU TOO.’ 

 

They watched him meet up with Richard Branson and Alan Sugar, and waited for Henry van Statten and Dmitry Kamenshchik to join them.  Dmitry was  a Russian businessman, chairman and sole shareholder in Moscow Domodedovo Airport, and owner of DME Limited, the Airport holding company. DME had built the spaceport they were now standing in.  The group had a quick conference, and Pete slapped some of their shoulders and made his way back.

 

‘What was all that about then?’ Jackie asked him suspiciously.

 

‘I’ve just pitched them the idea to have a Moon lottery. People pay a pound for a family ticket, and then two random tickets are selected each week for each of the launches. Profits will cover the cost of the tickets and the remainder goes to charity,’ Pete said with a smile.

 

Jackie grabbed his face and kissed him. ‘That my love, is a lovely idea.’

 

‘Hey, it was John’s idea really, I just put the idea into action,’ Pete told them. ‘We’ve still got to work out the details and see who else wants in on the idea.’

 

[‘Would all passengers for the return flight to Earth, please make their way to the departure gate please,’] a female voice said over the public address system.

 

‘Ooh, here we go,’ Jackie said, and they moved towards the airlock which led to the Space Plane as the message repeated.

 

Through the windows, they could see the plane sitting on the levitation track, with the tubular airlock tunnel reaching out to the passenger cabin. They could see people already on the plane, finding their seats and putting their hand luggage in the overhead compartments. After having their tickets checked, they walked along the airlock tunnel and found their seats. Ten minutes later, the hatch was locked into place.

 

The pilots had entered the cockpit an hour earlier to run through the pre flight checks, and now they were waiting for the green light from the closed hatch. The passengers could also see when the green light came on, which meant the ship was now sealed and pressurised. They heard the thrumming noise as the tunnel had the air sucked out of it, before being withdrawn back into the wall of the departure lounge.

 

[‘Ladies, gentlemen, and young people, this is your captain speaking. I hope you all enjoyed your stay on the Moon.’] There was a chorus of “yes’s” from the passengers. [‘All the preflight checks are completed and we have a go for launch from Tranquility Tower. Our departure will be timed so that we rendezvous with the Lunar Conveyor as it swings around from the far side of the Moon. I hope you enjoy your flight.’]

 

After a few minutes, the countdown from ten started, and when it got to zero, it smoothly accelerated on the magnetic track. Although the plane had the same mass as on Earth, there was less gravity trying to pull it back down, and no air resistance trying to stop it from going forward. The end of the three mile track ascended the curved wall of a crater, and the Space Plane shot off the end at nearly one thousand mile an hour. The SABRE ignited its rocket phase, and accelerated the plane to a velocity which would allow the Conveyor to slowly close the distance.

 

For the passengers on board, it was a replay of the journey they had experienced when they had left the Earth. The Lunar Conveyor was a dot which got increasingly larger, and the Space Plane started to rotate to match it. After docking and airlock pressurisation, Captain Archer stepped through the hatchway and welcomed them aboard. For the next two days, they enjoyed the facilities of the Conveyor as they had on the outward journey.

 

When they approached the Earth, the Intrepid was launched nose first out of the back of the Conveyor with the magnetic track, and used its attitude thrusters to turn through one hundred and eighty degrees before firing its engines to decelerate into the Earth’s atmosphere. The Endeavour was on its way to bring more supplies to the Conveyor and for the Moon.

 

The passengers in the Fortitude were pushed back in their seats, as the ship was ejected from the docking bay in the same manner as the Intrepid. The ship turned, and they were then pushed further back into their seats as the engines ignited and started the long burn to bring their speed down to Mach five. At this point, the plane turned through one hundred and eighty degrees, and started to fly into the upper atmosphere without the need for a heat shield.

 

The Space Plane flew along the equator, decelerating as it went until it approached the Chimborazo Spaceport in Ecuador where it landed as a conventional aircraft. The passengers disembarked to a media frenzy as reporters and news crews wanted to be the first to interview the first space tourists.

 

The Tylers and Smiths eventually made it to the Vitex airship, after having microphones and cameras thrust into their faces and giving impromptu interviews. “Yes. It was brilliant. No. I didn’t throw up in zero gravity. Yes. The services were excellent.” Jackie gave “mind yer own business” as an answer when one cheeky reporter asked if she had tried the adult, zero G fun zone.

 

‘Whose for a cuppa,’ Jackie asked as she made her way to the galley on the airship.

 

‘Ooh Mum. I could murder one, thanks,’ Rose said as she flopped down on one of the comfy sofa seats.

 

The airship rose gracefully into the air and headed north east towards the Atlantic ocean. At thirty two thousand feet, they caught the edge of the jet stream which gave its speed a bit of a boost, and bringing the flight time down to around twelve hours. Fortunately, the Vitex airship was like a flying hotel, and as well as the galley it had bedrooms, a lounge, and in-flight entertainments.

  
  


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**Gwen O’Toole’s Apartment.**

  
  


**Bayswater, London.**

  
  


“Ding-dong”.

 

Gwen opened the door of her apartment to find Amy “Legs” Williams standing there in a black denim mini skirt, blue sweatshirt, leather jacket and cowboy boots, holding a bottle, a bag of Dorritos and a DVD. It was Sunday evening, but it was their “Wednesday night in”, which they had missed last week  due to them being on night shift, and Rose being on the Moon. They were holding it now, so they could catch up before their shift on Monday.

 

‘Hi Amy. Go on through, Sarah and Chrissie should be here in a minute. They’re sharing a taxi as usual.’

 

Gwen was about to close the door, when she heard footsteps in the hallway. ‘We’re here,’ Sarah called out as they came around the corner.

 

‘Just in time,’ Gwen said as she ushered them inside. There were choruses of greetings from Rose, Alice, Julia and Angel, who were already there.

 

‘Rose! How was the Moon?’ Amy asked, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. ‘We saw all the news items, it looked fantastic.’

 

‘Oh it was brilliant. I’ll tell you all about it,’ Rose replied.

 

‘Right, let’s get the wine open and we can pick a DVD,’ Julia said with enthusiasm.

 

‘Oh. I’ll just have the new mango and passion fruit Vitex that I brought please,’ Amy told them.

 

‘Oh yeah. That’s the new flavour Dad was talkin’ about,’ Rose said. ‘Is it nice?’

 

‘It’s lovely,’ Amy replied.

 

‘You not on the wine then?’ Gwen asked.

 

‘Well. I thought I’d better lay off it for now . . . y’know, due to my condition,’ Amy said with a coy smile.

 

‘What condition?’ Alice asked, but Rose had already caught on.

 

‘Don’t tell me you’re pregnant.’

 

Amy beamed a smile. ‘Yeah. I did the test yesterday and I’ve been burstin’ to tell you all.’

 

There were squeals of delight with hugs and kisses all round . . . all except Angel. She smiled and congratulated Amy politely, but didn’t seem as delighted as the others.

 

Rose could see that something was troubling her friend. ‘Are you okay Angel?’ she asked.

 

‘Yes, I am fine. I am very pleased for you Amy,’ Angel replied.

 

Alice slipped into psychologist mode. ‘Something tells me you are not as pleased as you would like to be. What’s the matter sweetheart?’

 

Angels eyes glistened with unshed tears. ‘I’m sorry. I do not want to spoil your good news. It’s just that André and me have been trying for a baby for a while now without success.’

 

‘Oh Angel. You poor thing,’ Rose said, sitting down on the sofa with her and putting an arm around her shoulder. Gwen handed them both a glass of wine.

 

Angel took the offered glass and took a sip. ‘Because we are different species, I do not think our genomes are compatible.’

 

‘Blimey.  That’s a clinical way of putting it,’ Gwen said.

 

From her shared consciousness with her husband, Rose recalled a scientific paper that John had written years before and had published in The New Scientist. He had titled it “Evolution and the effect of trans-species gene compatibility”.

 

Rose rubbed Angel’s shoulder. ‘Hey. Don’t give up hope. We happen to have a very clever scientist workin’ at Torchwood, and I reckon I could put a good word in for ya.’

 

Angel managed a laugh, and Rose closed her eyes. [‘John. You got a minute?’] she thought to her husband.

 

[‘For you, always. What’s up?’]

 

[‘Well. A couple of things. Amy’s pregnant . . .’]

 

[‘Hah! Way to go Rory. The sly old dog.’]

 

[‘And Angel wants to be pregnant but can’t manage it.’]

 

[‘Ah. I take it they’ve been trying. Course they have. Why wouldn’t they. Couple of newly weds like that. I suppose it’s down to incompatible biology,’] John thought like his runaway gob. 

 

[‘Yeah. But you know that paper you wrote on trans-species gene compatibility. Was that just theory, or does it have a practical application?’]

 

[‘Ooh, Misses Smith talking all sciency. Someone’s been paying attention,’] he teased.

 

[‘Shut up,’] she thought back playfully. [‘Can you help them?’]

 

[‘In answer to your first question, yes it does have a practical application. And in answer to your second question, yes, I can help them. Tell Angel I’ll have a word with Martha tomorrow, then if they come and see me in the lab after their shift, I should have some news for them.’]

 

[‘I bloody love you. Just for that, I’m goin’ to wear the police woman outfit for ya tonight,’] Rose thought to him, with the notion of what she was going to do to him.

 

[‘Ooh. Can’t wait. Have a good time Love. See you later.’]

 

Rose opened her eyes, and could see her friends were looking at her expectantly. They could always tell when she was communing with John. She grinned at them and looked at Angel. ‘I’ve put a good word in for ya, and he’ll see you after your shift tomorrow. He reckons he can help you have a baby.’

 

Chrissie snorted a laugh. ‘I think that probably sounded better in your head, Rose.’

 

Everyone thought about what she’d said and burst out laughing.

 

‘No. I meant he reckons he can help you and André have a baby,’ Rose said, blushing and joining them in the laughter.

 

‘Come on. Now we’ve got the mood back, let’s get this girls night started,’ Julia said picking The Full Monty DVD at random and putting it in the player. She opened the packet of Doritos and looked around. ‘Where’s the sweet chilli dip?’

  
  


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**Torchwood Reception.**

 

**Torchwood Tower, Canary Wharf.**

 

**08:00.**

  
  
  


It was 08:00, and in the bright, airy atrium of the Torchwood Institute, Sarah Green and five of her colleagues took their seats at the curved reception desk for the start of their shift. She wheeled the chair in front of her screen, and logged on to the Torchwood server to check her emails before looking at the itinerary for the day.

 

On any weekday, the Institute would have visits from various global laboratory staff, engineers, government inspectors, and other interested parties, and today was no exception. It was the job of the receptionists to greet the visitors, contact the relevant departments to notify them of their arrival, and to make sure the visitors were issued with their guest passes.

 

They would also have unscheduled visits from members of the public who had something unusual to report, needed advice on some issue, or were just curious sightseers who had seen the television documentary. For the latter, there was merchandise that could be purchased as mementos of their visit.

 

Through the glass fronted reception, Sarah could see one of those unannounced visitors approaching across Reuters Plaza. It was a woman with short cut auburn hair, in her early thirties, wearing a long black coat over a plum top and black trousers. As the glass doors swished open and the woman walked through, Sarah thought her hairstyle and clothing gave her a slightly masculine appearance.

 

‘Good morning and welcome to the Torchwood Institute. My name is Sarah, how may I help you?’ Sarah said with practised ease.

 

‘Good morning. My name is Doctor Margaret Haxby. I wonder if it would be possible to speak with Doctor John Smith?’ the woman replied.

 

‘Do you have an appointment?’ Sarah asked, checking John’s diary on the screen. John didn’t usually arrive until he’d finished the school run, and she could see he wasn’t scheduled to arrive early.

 

‘Er, no. I don’t,’ Margaret confessed. ‘Do you think he would see me anyway? We met in Dunwich last September, and I’ve got something unusual and of a . . . personal nature to discuss.’

 

‘Dunwich?’ Sarah said. That rang a bell. She typed the name on the keyboard, and the mission summary appeared on the screen. ‘Oh. The village that was forced asleep. Is it in relation to that incident?’

 

Margaret had a troubled expression on her face. ‘Yes. I believe it is.’

 

Sarah gave her a reassuring smile. ‘I’m sure Doctor Smith wouldn’t mind. He doesn’t normally arrive until half nine or so. I’ll put an alert on his ID badge which will send a message to his phone. When he arrives in the building, it will ask him to come to reception.’

 

‘Thank you. That’s very kind,’ said Margaret.

 

‘No problem. There’s some comfortable seating over there,’ Sarah said, indicating to the side of the entrance. ‘There’s a TV, some magazines, and an espresso machine or fresh tea in the pot. I’ll send Doctor Smith over when he arrives.’

  
  


**Torchwood Special Operations Standby Room.**

 

**Torchwood Tower, Canary Wharf.**

 

**08:00.**

  
  


‘And finally. Amy would like to make an announcement,’ Rose said as she finished the briefing.

 

Amy stood up to whistles and applause. ‘Er, thanks Rose. I told the girls last night, and it’s just to let everyone know officially that I’m pregnant.’ There were more whistles, cheers and applause.

 

‘I didn’t know Rory had got it in him,’ Jake said jokingly. ‘Congratulations Legs.’

 

‘Okay people, you’ve got your assignments. Get the hell outta here,’ Rose said with a grin.

 

“Other Craig” Owens held Amy’s elbow and spoke quietly. ‘Hey. Congratulations partner. I’m really pleased for you.’ He gently kissed her on the cheek.

 

‘Oh, thanks Craig. That means a lot to me.’

 

'And for what it's worth, I think you’ll make a brilliant mum.’

 

Amy gave him a cheeky smile. 'Now don’t go getting all soppy on me. Come on, grab your gear. We’ve got a blob of jelly to investigate.’

 

Rose shook her head and smiled as she watched them leave with their cameraman.

 

'The viewers are going to love that,’ Chris Greenwood said as he took the camera off his shoulder. 'For all their sniping, it's obvious that they really care about each other.’

 

Rose smiled at him. 'Yeah. It's the same for all the partners in the team. Deep down they know that they trust each other with their lives.’ She headed towards the office and then turned. 'Oh, and watch this space. There might be some more good news in the near future.’

 

Chris raised a questioning eyebrow, but Rose just gave him her tongue between the teeth smile. She went to the kitchenette and poured herself a mug of tea before heading to her office. Through the glass  wall, she could see Jack Harkness approaching. 

 

‘Hi Jack,’ she said as he walked in and closed the door.

 

‘Hi Sweetheart. How was the Moon?’

 

‘Oh Jack, it was great. Normally, we go somewhere in the TARDIS, and everythin’ is already well established, and everybody has been there for years. But to be there at the start . . . it was brilliant.’

 

‘I can imagine. I was watching all the news reports. It looked like everyone enjoyed themselves. Rex is saving up to buy us some tickets,’ Jack told her with a laugh.

 

‘You don’t have to do that. We can take you in the TARDIS.’

 

‘But if you did that, then we wouldn’t get that pioneer feeling that you told me about,’ he explained.

 

‘Oh yeah. Fair enough. Anyway, to what do I owe the pleasure?’ she asked him. He didn’t normally come to Special Operations unless it was official business.

 

‘Ah, yes. I wanted you to get the briefing out of the way before I brought you up to speed on the Dunwich case.’

 

‘Dunwich. Has there been a development? I didn’t see anythin’ when I checked the briefing log this mornin’.’

 

‘That’s because it’s not in the log. We decided to keep it a secret until we could get John to have a look at the data,’ Jack told her.

 

She gave him a questioning look. ‘We?’

 

‘Alice. You see the development is quite sensitive and will have implications for the villagers.’

 

‘What is the development?’

 

‘I’d rather wait for John to get here and then I can tell you both together.’

 

‘Oh. Okay,’ she said with a frown. Jack didn’t usually keep secrets from her. ‘Do you want us to come up to your office when he arrives?’

 

‘That would be great,’ he said and then gave her his perfect smile. ‘And don’t look so worried. It’s just that there will be social issues to be sorted out, and we don’t want the media getting wind of it.’

 

‘Ah, gotcha. Okay, we’ll see you later.’

 

‘Thanks Sweetheart.’


	16. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John meets with Doctor Haxby and a memory from his childhood comes to the fore. Jack calls an urgent meeting before John and Rose depart for a certain asteroid.
> 
> This chapter contains some sensitive issues on ethics.

**Chapter 16**

 

**Revelations**

  
  


As Delores the Delorean reversed into the parking space, John’s Smartphone bleeped in his pocket to tell him he had a message. He took it out of his blue, pinstriped jacket and activated the display.

 

“Please call at reception. Visitor with information about Dunwich case,” he read.

 

‘Hmm. Interesting,’ he said to himself. [‘I’ll be along later for my cuppa Love. There’s someone in reception to see me,’] he thought to his wife.

 

[‘Okay Love. Don’t be too long, Jack wants to see us in his office. He’s got an update on Dunwich,’] Rose thought back.

 

[‘Blimey. It’s all happening today. This visitor has information on Dunwich as well.’]

 

He made his way up to Reception, and approached the desk. ‘Hi Sarah. Is there someone to see me?’

 

‘Morning John. Yes, it’s the lady over there. Doctor Haxby.’

 

John looked over to where she was pointing, and saw Margaret stand up. He walked over to meet her, holding out his hand. ‘Hello Margaret. I didn’t expect to see you here.’

 

‘I didn’t expect to ever come here John. However, there has been . . . a development,’ she said mysteriously.

 

‘A development?’

 

‘Yes. Something that I hope you can help me with. Is there somewhere private we could speak? It’s rather personal.’

 

John’s interest was piqued. ‘Er, yes. Of course. Come up to my lab in the Research Department.’

 

The Research Department on the eighth floor, was a mishmash of a number of different scientific disciplines, all of whom had their own departments on other floors in the Tower. It was here that the original dimension cannon was developed which allowed Rose to get back to the Doctor all those years ago.

 

The bank of eight elevators were roughly in the centre of the building, along with stairwells, toilets, heating, air conditioning, and other services. After that, different floors were divided up depending on the needs of the different departments. The eighth floor was an open plan design, only partially divided by half walls and glass partitions.

 

The North-West corner of the floor space was allocated to physics and astrophysics, divided by glass walls. The North-East corner to chemistry, and the South-East to biochemistry and earth sciences. Finally, electronics, bioengineering and microengineering was allocated to the South-West corner. John’s laboratory / office / workshop, was near the lifts in the centre, overseeing the whole department and bringing all the disciplines together.

 

Margaret looked around the room in awe at all the high tech equipment on the workbenches and floors. John led her to the door of his laboratory, and she couldn’t help noticing the serving hatch in the wall. John noticed her questioning look.

 

‘I had to lock myself in once,’ he told her. ‘Er, long story. Would you like a tea or coffee?’

 

‘No thank you. I had one in reception,’ she replied as he held the door open for her to go inside.

 

‘Have a seat,’ John said as he closed the door and indicated one of the chairs.

 

‘Thank you,’ she said as she looked around at the shelves and worktops filled with odds and sods, bits and bobs, and all manner of alien looking objects.

 

‘So, Margaret. You said there’s been a development connected to the Dunwich incident,’ John reiterated.

 

‘Well, yes. I think so. There’s no other explanation for it.’

 

‘Explanation for what?’

 

‘I’m pregnant!’ she told him suddenly.

 

‘Oh. Right. Er, congratulations,’ John said with a frown. ‘But, er . . . we’ve only met once . . . briefly. Can I ask . . . why are you telling me?’ Surely she wasn’t accusing him of being the father . . . Was she?

 

‘I’m telling you, because I can’t be pregnant,’ Margaret said with a conviction that denied any argument.

 

“Ah. She’s in denial,” John thought to himself. ‘Well. I can understand how you might think it will interfere with your career, but . . .’

 

‘No Doctor Smith. You don’t understand. It is impossible for me to be pregnant,’ she said forcefully. ‘My partner . . .’

 

Oh. Now it made sense. She was pregnant and her partner had either had a vasectomy, or was impotent.

 

‘Well you never know,’ John interrupted as she paused. ‘He may have just had a low sperm count. Or maybe . . .’

 

‘My partner is also pregnant,’ Margaret told him which stopped him dead in his tracks.

 

There was a long pause. ‘Oh!’

 

‘Her name’s Diana. She’s a research assistant at The Grange,’ she explained. ‘She decided to do her own blood test using the equipment at The Grange . . .’

 

‘And she found out she was pregnant?’

 

‘Yes. And that made me suspicious, so I asked her to test my blood as well’

 

And then, that memory from his childhood which had been eluding him, started to creep out of the dark recesses of his mind.

 

‘Oh wait a minute. No, it couldn't be . . . Yes . . . No!’

  


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In the Conference Room, Jack Harkness chaired a hastily arranged meeting. ‘Okay everyone, thank you for attending at short notice.’

 

‘What’s it all about?’ Andy McNab, head of Special Operations asked.

 

‘The Dunwich incident,’ Jack explained. ‘I was going to brief John and Rose on a development which occurred last week, but events have overtaken us so I’ve decided to call this meeting to brief you all. I ask that anything discussed in this room, stays in the room until we have a plan of action.’

 

‘Yes’. ‘Of course’, people said around the table.

 

‘Good. Before we get started, I need to introduce Doctor Margaret Haxby. She works at the UNIT research facility at The Grange in Dunwich, and was there when the incident happened.’

 

There was a chorus of greetings from the Torchwood staff.

 

‘Last week, the Clinical Chemistry lab found that fifty one females in Dunwich were pregnant,’ Jack started. There were gasps and mutterings from the assembled group of people. ‘Exactly. You can see why we want to keep it quiet for now.’

 

‘But you already knew, Margaret,’ Alice queried.

 

‘Yes. My partner Diana found out first, when she did her own blood test at The Grange. She wondered if the induced coma had caused any changes in her blood chemistry.’

 

‘Are we talking about a weird kind of date rape here?’ Chrissie Anderson, the Senior Technical Operations Officer asked.

 

‘Wellll. Sort of,’ John said pulling his ear.

 

Rose had picked up on his train of thought. ‘Although it wouldn’t be sexual intercourse, because the chances of every woman in the village ovulatin’ at the same time would be astronomical.’

 

‘Exactly,’ John agreed. ‘This would be embryo implantation. Xenogenesis.’

 

‘What have the women been impregnated with?’ Andy asked. ‘What kind of threat level are we looking at here?’

 

‘Andy?’ Alice said, and nodded at Margaret. One of the impregnated women was in the room.

 

‘Sorry Margaret, but it’s my job to assess the situation and formulate a response for the worst case scenario,’ Andy explained.

 

‘No, that’s all right,’ Margaret said. ‘Honestly. Someone or something is forcing me to be a surrogate . . . like I’m some kind of living incubator.’

 

‘And how does that make you feel?’ Alice asked.

 

‘Angry, disgusted, violated. It’s like I’ve got a parasite inside me,’ Margaret replied.

 

‘You have,’ John said. ‘The beings that did this to you must be obligate brood parasites, like a cuckoo.’

 

‘Do you know who they are then?’ Jack asked.

 

John shook his head. ‘I’ve heard a story about them. Since the incident at Dunwich, something was niggling at the back of my mind, something from my childhood. It was only when Margaret confirmed that all the women were pregnant that it came flooding back.’

 

John started to tell his story. ‘When we were in kindergarten on Gallifrey . . .’

 

‘Gallifrey?’ Margaret asked with a frown.

 

‘That’s the planet he comes from,’ Rose tried to explain. ‘Well, old him anyway.’ She saw Margaret’s puzzled expression. ‘It’s complicated.’

 

‘As I was saying,’ John continued. ‘When we were in kindergarten on Gallifrey, at the end of term in our literacy class, a Verron Soothsayer would visit and tell us stories of their past, er . . . “soothsayings”. One of those stories was about a race of incubi who travelled the stars, visiting small communities on worlds and impregnating the females.’

 

‘That’s one hell of a story to tell young kids,’ Andy said.

 

‘So is Little Red Riding Hood and the Lupine Wavelength Heamovariform,’ John retorted.

 

‘Fair point,’ Andy conceded.

 

‘What happens when the children are born?’ Alice asked.

 

‘Well, from what I can remember of the story, the children had the ability to compel their parents to do their bidding in the small community. They had a collective consciousness, so there were no individual personalities. They were all parts of a whole. When they reached adulthood, they dominated the populations of the world and enslaved them.’

 

‘Oh that’s clever,’ Andy said. ‘Invasion by stealth.’

 

‘Like the siege of Troy,’ Jack added.

 

‘Except they use the maternal instincts of these “Trojan Mothers” to protect and nurture the invaders,’ Alice said.

 

‘So how do we stop them?’ Chrissie asked, fearing the worst.

 

‘Well I’m having a termination, as is Diana,’ Margaret said coldly.

 

‘That seems a bit extreme,’ Rose said.

 

‘But perfectly legal,’ Doctor Marla Jones stated.

 

‘The slaughter of the innocents,’ Alice said, thinking out loud.

 

‘Had I been in a heterosexual relationship, and there was a possibility that it could be mine, then I might think differently. Unlike some of the women in Dunwich, I know this is a parasite that has been put inside me,’ Margaret explained.

 

Marla had an idea. ‘John, if we did the termination here, in the Torchwood Hospital, we could study the parasite when we’ve removed it.’

 

John gave her an annoyed look. ‘And does the baby alien have a say in this?’ he asked, playing the Devil’s advocate.

 

He was remembering the Racnoss offspring under the Thames in the old universe, and how he’d had to drown them to save the world. This situation though, was more akin to the Adipose babies who were grown from the excess fat of people who voluntarily took the slimming tablets. Okay, those people were duped into growing the babies, and many of them would have died without his intervention, but on the positive side, they did lose weight.

 

‘I didn’t,’ Margaret reminded him.

 

‘It didn’t either,’ John said. ‘The universe has dealt it this hand where it has to gestate in a borrowed womb.’

 

‘Well it’s not borrowing mine,’ Margaret said.

 

‘The ethics of abortion are beyond the scope of this meeting,’ Jack said, bringing the meeting back on track.

 

Rose was thinking about something else John had mentioned. ‘But John, you said that we’d be enslaved. Wouldn’t that mean the end of human civilisation? What would have happened on Satellite Five if Bad Wolf hadn’t gotten rid of the Daleks? Would ninety six billion people have been wiped out?’

 

‘But we don’t even know if these are the same aliens. How can we make the decision to wipe them out, based on an eight hundred year old, half remembered fairytale from my childhood?’

 

‘Eight hundred years?’ Margaret asked. Nothing these people said made any sense.

 

‘It’s complicated,’ John, Rose and Jack said together.

 

‘Have we forgotten the five million Cybermen that were held in those factories whilst the politicians argued that we should help them?’ Andy reminded them. ‘How many people died when they escaped?’

 

Chrissie had been on the dimension button project when the Cybermen had escaped from “Pete’s World”. ‘He’s got a point. Can we afford to wait and let them develop their powers?’

 

‘This is the “Kill Baby Hitler” dilemma,’ Alice informed them. ‘If you travelled back in time, could you justify killing Hitler as a baby to save millions of lives in the future?’

 

John was only too familiar with this dilemma. ‘And could you justify NOT saving millions of lives if you had the opportunity?’

 

‘Interesting as this dilemma is,’ Margaret started. ‘I see the incident at Dunwich as an assault on my person. And just as I would go to a doctor to get rid of a tapeworm, I consent to Doctor Jones removing this parasite from my body.’

 

John could see both sides of the argument, and it didn’t sit well with him. Rose could feel the conflict of conscience within him and tried to inspire him to find a brilliant solution like he normally did.

 

‘What about the Shadow Proclamation? Have they come up with anything yet?’ she asked.

 

‘The Scrutationary Archivist investigating our complaint has found similar incidents to Dunwich in their archives, but they are all unsolved cold . . . cases . . .’ His voice trailed off as a realisation hit him. ‘Oh my stupid brain!’ he said slapping his forehead with the palm of his hand. ‘Of course they’re cold cases. If the population is being controlled, who’s going to be interested in the results of an investigation?’

 

‘Oh that is brilliant!’ Rose exclaimed. ‘I never thought of that.’

 

Alice could see where John’s idea was leading. ‘And if a population massacred the innocents . . .’

 

‘No one is going to want to report it,’ Jack finished for her.

 

‘I’ve got to go to the Shadow Proclamation,’ John told Jack.

 

‘No,’ Rose corrected him. ‘We’ve got to go.’

  


+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

  


The corridors in the asteroids of the Shadow Proclamation, echoed to the grinding, wheezing of the TARDIS engines as it materialised into existence. The right hand door opened inwards and John stepped out, followed by Rose, who had changed into her Special Operations black combat fatigues.

 

The Judoon guard barked at them. ‘Sco - bo - tro - no - flo - jo.’ [This - arrival - is - not - authorised,] the TARDIS translated.

 

‘Yes - we - know,’ John barked in reply. ‘Our - planet - is - being - invaded. I - need - to - speak - with - the - Shadow - Architect.’

 

‘Hmph - This - is - most - irregular. Follow - me,’ the Judoon said.

 

‘Thank - you.’

 

In the large, blue lit reception chamber, the white haired, red eyed Shadow Architect listened as John and Rose explained what had occured in the village of Dunwich.

 

‘I saw the initial report from your institute on the incident,’ she told them. 'The Scrutationary Archivist investigating the complaint found a number of documented reports over the millennia, all cold cases I’m afraid. There are plenty of theories about them of course; from unethical research, to plain and simple robbery. But  immoral xenogenesis was never considered, and there certainly haven’t been any reports of such activity.’

 

'That may be because those responsible select world's they believe are not technologically advanced enough to contact you,’ Rose suggested.

 

'Or, as I suspect, it may be that the offspring control the hosts and either prevent them from reporting the incident, or get them to withdraw the complaint,’ John theorised.

 

The Architect had a stern expression on her face. 'If it is the latter of your suspicions, then it is of grave concern for all the worlds which fall under our jurisdiction.’

 

'I agree,’ said John. 'That is why I request access to your archive. We need to change the search criteria and look for cold cases or retracted complaints and follow up on what happened to the complainants.’

 

The Architect nodded. ‘I will assign a Scrutationary Archivist to assist you.’

 

‘Thank you,’ John said as the Architect led them towards the wide, glass staircase. A young woman, who also had white hair and red eyes, approached them.

 

‘This is Aeona,’ the Architect said. ‘She will assist you with your investigation.’

 

Aeona bowed slightly. ‘Greetings.’

 

‘Hello,’ John and Rose replied.

 

Aeona frowned at them. ‘You are not of this universe.’

 

‘Er, no, we’re not,’ John said, matching her frown. ‘How did you know?’

 

‘You were born out of crisis,’ she said to John.

 

‘And you . . . There is something of the wolf about you . . . Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf?’ she said to Rose, in an echo of a conversation from a scullery in Cardiff.

 

Rose was wide eyed. ‘What . . ? But how . . ?’

 

‘That will do Aeona,’ the Architect said not unkindly. ‘Please forgive her impropriety. She has the sight.’

 

‘Oh please, no need for forgiveness,’ John said with an open mouthed smile. ‘Might come in very useful, a bit of in-sight. Eh Rose?’

 

‘Yeah. Definitely,’ Rose agreed with a smile of her own.

 

Aeona bowed again and smiled with them. ‘Then allow me to take you to the archives you are looking for.’

 

‘See. A bit of insight will save us hours of searching,’ John said. ‘Right. Rose, I need you to go back to the TARDIS and . . .’

 

‘Cross reference the cases with the Old Girl’s database to see if there is any correlation,’ she finished for him with a cheeky grin.

 

‘Hah! Exactly.’ He gave her a kiss. ‘Allons-y!’

 

[‘10-3-17-0-1 by 0-2 from galactic zero centre,’] John thought to Rose, who was at the monitor of the TARDIS console.

 

'. . . By zero - dash - two,’ Rose repeated as she tapped in the coordinates. [‘Ah. An incident took place at a small township in the Northern Territory of a southern continent. Somethin’ apparently went badly wrong there. There were thirty-three pregnancies, but for some reason the Children all died; most of them a few hours after birth, the eldest at a week old,’] she relayed from the report on the screen.

 

[‘That was probably why they withdrew the complaint,’] John thought back. [‘Try, 7-8-9-8-2-5-8-2-0-0 from galactic centre.’]

 

[‘Hang on, it’s just searchin’ . . . Here it is. There was an incident at a native settlement on an island, near the northern pole of the planet. The inhabitants were cagey about what happened there, but it is believed that they were so outraged, or perhaps alarmed, at the arrival of babies so unlike their own kind that they exposed them to the elements almost at once. At any rate, none survived.’]

 

[‘And that one wouldn’t show up on our search criteria because the whole settlement would have fallen asleep, and no one would realise that anything had happened,’] John reasoned. [‘What about, 31-10-6-1-0-1-1-8-5?’]

 

['Ooh. This one’s a bit nasty. It was assumed that the women had lain with devils, and they “perished”, as well as the children. It doesn’t say how they “perished”, but I can have a good guess,’] Rose told him. And then she remembered the phrase “massacre of the innocents” which Alice had used at the meeting. [‘John? Wasn’t there somethin’ in the Bible about babies bein’ killed?’] she asked.

 

[‘Yes. Herod the Great tried to prevent the Christ from becoming the Messiah. But there was never any evidence that it ever actually happened,’] John replied.

 

[‘Still . . . Bit of a coincidence. Same modus operandi and all that.’]

 

[‘Yeah. Fair point. It might be the basis of the written account. Here’s another. 1-13-7-10-12 by 3-5.’]

 

[‘Oh God,’] Rose thought with dread. [‘This is just what you are tryin’ to avoid John. Once the babies were born, the authorities practically sealed off the town, a place about twice the size of Dunwich and the information from there virtually ceased. A week later there was a test firin’ of a medium-type atomic cannon and the town ceased to exist.']

 

[‘WHAT?! They nuked the whole town?’]

 

[‘Apparently. They said it was a tragic accident, and that the operator put in the wrong coordinates. But before that, there were reports of riots in the town, where the townsfolk were attackin’ each other. When soldiers went to sort it out, they shot at each other,’] Rose read.

 

[‘It sounds like that fairytale wasn’t a fairytale after all. The townsfolk and the soldiers would have been forced to attack each other, rather than the children. To an authoritarian regime, annihilation would be a logical and acceptable solution.’]

 

[‘But they must have been desperate,’] Rose thought.

 

[‘They were fighting for the survival of the species. When that happens, the gloves come off and it’s every man, woman and child for themselves. We need to find these aliens and have a chat with them,’] John thought.

 

[‘I was afraid you were gonna say that.’]

 

So, for the next few hours they sifted through all the cases that fitted there new, expanded search criteria. Suddenly, Aeona stopped scrolling the information on the screen.

 

‘This is one of the cases you are looking for John,’ she said with conviction.

 

‘Ooh, that sounds like a bit of insight to me. What have you found?’

 

‘Converting the time scales to Earth time, there was an incident 12 years ago where a small community mysteriously fell asleep for 36 hours,’ Aeona read.

 

‘36 hours. That’s bang on the same duration of the Dunwich incident,’ John told her.

 

‘Yes. And then, a year later, the case was closed. The complainants report that after an extensive investigation, a chemical company had been transporting a non-lethal nerve gas used in the veterinary trade for sedating dangerous animals and a leak had occurred as it passed close to the community.’

 

‘That sounds very plausible . . . and a bit too convenient,’ John said cynically. [‘Rose. I’m sending you some coordinates. Get the Old Girl ready to fly.’]

 

[‘Coordinates locked and loaded. Is this a live one?’]

 

[‘It sounds promising and worth a look.’]

 

They thanked Aeona and the Shadow Architect, and made their way back to the TARDIS.

  



	17. The Face Of The Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Rose take the TARDIS into an Orwellian nightmare to try and find a solution.

**Chapter 17**

 

**The Face Of The Enemy**

  
  


‘So. How are we goin’ to handle this then?’ Rose asked as John put the TARDIS into the Vortex. ‘Cos I remember a certain Osirian in Hawaii, forcing you to shoot me in the chest with special FX blood bullets.’

 

Rose was referring to a previous mission where an old adversary of the Doctor called Sutekh, had escaped from a time prison and tried to open the breach by using pyramids to vibrate the Earth. He had controlled John and the Torchwood team and forced them to shoot each other. It was only because John had planned ahead and used special FX blood bullets that they were able to survive.

 

John looked up from the console with a concerned look on his face. ‘We are going to have to be careful Love. These aliens may be as powerful as Sutekh.’

 

‘So you don’t think they’re Osirians then?’ Rose asked.

 

John scratched the back of his head. ‘Nah. They reproduce normally and rear their own young, teaching them how to use their powers responsibly.’

 

‘Er, Sutekh? Responsible?’ Rose pointed out.

 

‘Wellll. Dysfunctional childhood. Every civilisation has its Genghis Khan's, its Hitlers,’ John replied. ‘But these cuckoos . . . they’re like the children in the book “Lord of the Flies”. Imagine an adult with the emotional maturity of a six year old, holding a machine gun. If they have a tantrum, people are going to die.’

 

‘And you want to talk to them?’ Rose asked disbelievingly. ‘You’d better wear your body armour.’

 

‘Wouldn’t do any good,’ John told her, flicking a switch on the console and pulling down a lever. ‘They’d just make me take it off before they made me shoot myself.’

 

‘Tell me you’ve got a plan. I want the kids to have a Dad while they grow up,’ Rose said, remembering her own childhood.

 

John gave her his special smile. ‘When have any of my plans ever worked? No, I’ve got an idea that will evolve with the situation. But first of all, let’s do a bit of research. Find out what we’re walking into.’

 

‘Sort of “know your enemy”,’ Rose suggested.

 

‘Exactly,’ John agreed.

 

The TARDIS materialised in orbit around a world very similar in appearance to Earth. They used the TARDIS’s advanced technology to probe the planet during each 90 minute orbit, and at first glance, anyone would have thought it was a utopian society. There were no armed forces, because there were no wars. There was no law enforcement, because there was no crime. Everyone seemed to live together in peace and harmony.

 

John and Rose knew better though. They knew it was a dystopia of Orwellian proportions. As they scanned the historical records, they saw that twelve years ago, all the populations of the planet had become strictly managed by the state and all aspects of daily life had been subordinated to party and state planning. Employment was now managed by the global party on the basis of political reliability, and travel was tightly controlled by a “Global Ministry of Citizen's Security”.

 

They found unofficial reports from that time of severe restrictions on the freedom of association, expression and movement. Arbitrary detention, torture and other ill-treatment resulting in death, and executions. The Global State Security Department extrajudicially apprehended and imprisoned those accused of political crimes without due process.

 

Individuals who had been perceived as hostile to this global government coup, such as religious followers or critics of the leadership had been deported to labour camps without trial, often with their whole families. None had yet been released, and it looked unlikely that they ever would be. Around two million prisoners were currently being held in six large political prison camps around the globe, where they were being forced to work in conditions approaching slavery.

 

Supporters of the government who deviated from the government line were subject to reeducation in sections of labour camps set aside for that purpose. Those who were deemed politically rehabilitated would reassume responsible government positions on their release.

 

And worryingly, there appeared to be something called “total control zones”, where abuses such as torture, starvation, rape, murder, medical experimentation, forced labour, and forced abortions had been reported. There also appeared to be persecution on political, religious, racial and gender grounds, forcible transfer of populations, enforced disappearances of persons and forced starvation. Estimates put the death toll for these prison camps at around 10,000 people every year.

 

Rose was feeling physically sick as she finished reading the pre-cuckoo history. ‘A bunch of prepubescent teenagers were able to do this?’

 

‘Not on their own, no. But once they’d flexed those mental muscles and shown the population what they could do, the power hungry psychopaths would have come out of the woodwork and gladly lent a helping hand, just like any other dictatorship,’ John explained. He’d seen plenty of examples throughout history.

 

‘Yeah. I suppose every nut job dictator needs his hired thugs,’ Rose realised.

 

‘Although, I think these sixty four prepubescent, nut job teenagers could have controlled the planet without any help. It seems that they’ve ignored the psychopaths and let them get on with it,’ John observed.

 

‘So how do we stop all this and return this world to its natural inhabitants?’ Rose asked. ‘I mean, what are the long term aims of these invaders? Are they goin’ to impregnate the population again?’

 

‘Those are good questions Love. And to answer them, I need to speak to one of them. See if their long term goals are either pre programmed in their genes, sent to them telepathically by their progenitors, or if they just get on with taking over the world on their own.’

 

‘And if they don’t want to tell you?’ Rose asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

‘Well then, I’ll just have to insist.’

 

The TARDIS landed in a huge, sparsely populated public square, surrounded by enormous municipal buildings. On a raised dais in the centre of the square, was a two hundred feet tall statue of a prepubescent child, smiling down on a small, blue, wooden box. The right hand door of the police box opened inwards, and a tall man in a blue pinstripe suit and brown overcoat stepped out. He closed the door, and ran his fingers through his unruly, sticky up hair as he looked around. He turned to face the blue box and looked up at the marble statue.

 

‘Oh, hello,’ he said cheerfully. ‘So that’s what you look like. Basic humanoid form. Two eyes, two ears, one nose, one mouth. Ooh, pentadactyl appendages. What’s the chances of that?’

 

John turned away from the statue, and saw a local hurrying towards him. He was slightly shorter than John, with pale skin that had spotted markings running down his neck from his ears to under his collar, which suggested the markings carried on over the rest of his body. The collar was mandarin style, as were the rest of his drab, grey clothing. His dark eyes darted around the square, as though he expected to be pounced upon at any moment.

 

‘You are not from here. You should go. Now!’ he said, trying to guide John back towards the TARDIS. ‘Leave. Please, while you still can.’

 

The man slapped himself hard across the cheek. ‘No, please. Don . . .’ He grabbed himself around the throat and started to make gurgling noises.

 

As other people in the square walked past as though nothing unusual was happening, John rushed forward and tried to pull the man’s hand from around his own throat. ‘What are you doing? Stop it!’

 

‘Arghh,’ the man gasped as he collapsed to his knees.

 

John put his index and middle fingers on the man’s temples and frowned in concentration. He could feel the weight of sixty four minds compelling the man to strangle himself.

 

‘Oh no you don’t,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Not on my watch. This stops NOW!’

 

From the man’s thoughts, John discerned that his name was Narwal. His hand fell from his throat.

 

‘Thank you, but you shouldn’t have intervened. They know you are here now. You are in danger. Go quickly,’ Narwal insisted.

 

John helped him to his feet. ‘It’s okay. I want them to know I’m here. I’m here to help. I want to be taken to your leader. Now go on, off you go. Go on.’

 

Narwal squeezed John’s hand in gratitude. ‘You cannot beat them, but may the Gods bless you for trying. Good luck.’ His eyes widened in fear as he looked past John’s shoulder. He turned and hurried away across the square without looking back.

 

[‘So, have you got their attention?’] Rose thought in his head.

 

[‘Oh yes! I think I’ve just stuck my hand in the hornet’s nest,’] John thought back as he turned to look at the building which had caused Narwal such fear and trepidation.

 

One of the large, imposing buildings had stone steps its entire width which led up to a row of Doric columns. Standing at the top of those steps, in front of those columns stood a teenage boy with silver hair.

 

John gave him his best smile and waved. ‘Hello there. I’ve come a long way to meet you and your siblings . . . across half a galaxy in fact,’ he called out as he made towards him. His voice echoed across the near empty square.

 

He jogged to the foot of the steps, and strode up the dozen or so steps until he stood on the wide platform in front of the entrance. The alien child was slightly smaller than John, and he was dressed in a grey, roll neck sweater, black trousers, and a black leather jacket. His hair was short and neat, and close up, John could see that the iris’ of his eyes were golden.

 

‘That was a bit harsh down there,’ John said, nodding sideways to where he had just come from. ‘He was only saying hello.’

 

‘He was being subversive,’ the boy said. ‘Who are you?’

 

‘Oh I’m just someone passing by who happened to notice a once vibrant world which is now stagnating under the weight of an oppressive regime,’ John replied.

 

‘We do not believe you. You came here with a purpose. What was that purpose.’

 

John stuffed his hands in his coat pocket as he tilted his head back and looked down his nose at the alien. ‘Direct and to the point, eh? Okay, tell you what, an answer for an answer. What do you say?’

 

There was a pause. John suspected he was communing with the others. ‘Agreed. Why did you come here?’

 

‘I came to meet you. I want to know where you are from.’

 

‘We are from here,’ the alien replied.

 

‘No - you - are - not,’ John said forcefully. ‘You were left on this planet by your parents.’

 

‘Our parents did not leave us. They are here on this world,’ the child said, as though it was obvious.

 

‘No - they - are - not. They are your surrogates. Your progenitors implanted you into their wombs. So where are your progenitors?’

 

‘I believe it is my turn,’ the child said smugly. ‘How do you know of us?’

 

‘Your progenitors visited my world recently. I’m clever . . . Well, I’m a genius actually. But I don’t like to brag,’ he said dismissively.

 

[‘Much,’] Rose added in his head.

 

John gave her a mental grin. ‘So I did a bit of investigating and found this planet. My turn. I refer to my previous question, where are your progenitors?’

 

‘We do not know. It’s not important. Why do you want to know about us?’

 

‘Not important?!’ John exclaimed in disbelief. ‘It might not be important to you, but to fifty one women on my planet, it’s very important. And that answers your question, because there are fifty one of your lot gestating in their wombs, and if I don’t get an answer, there will be genocide.’

 

‘They would kill their babies?’ the child / alien asked with a frown.

 

‘That was my turn,’ John said and then threw his arms up in frustration. ‘Oh this your turn, my turn thing was a bad idea, can we drop it? Yes they might kill THE babies, because they know THE babies are alien parasites . . . Er, no offence,’ John added. ‘So I need to know about you. Your origins, your long term goals, so that I can find a peaceful solution.’

 

‘As we told you, we do not know our origins. We were born here. We live our lives . . . we survive.’

 

‘But do you thrive?’ John asked himself more than the alien. 'I’ve been looking back to the time when you arrived here. There were some violent incidents while you were growing up,’ John told him.

 

'As babies, we had an inborn reflex to compel our mothers to tend to our needs. As we grew and others learned of our abilities, it frightened them. When people are frightened, they seem to react violently.’

 

‘Can’t argue with that,’ John agreed. ‘But with your abilities, you could have just made the mobs go home. You didn’t have to make them hurt and kill each other.’

 

'It made more of an impression,' the boy told him.

 

'But wasn't it politically unsound to take that extra step that simply increased anger and hatred?'

 

'Fear, too,' the boy pointed out.

 

'Oh, so you wanted to instil fear . . . Why?' inquired John.

 

'Only to make them leave us alone,' said the boy. 'It was a means; not an end.' His golden eyes held John’s, with a steady, earnest look. 'Sooner or later, they would have tried to kill us. However we would have behaved, they would have wanted to wipe us out. Our position could only have been made stronger by taking the initiative.'

 

‘So you created a global totalitarian state, ruling by fear and intimidation,’ John realised. 'But wanting to wipe you out seems a bit of an assumption,' he said.

 

‘It was a biological obligation. It still is. They couldn’t afford NOT to try and kill us, because if they didn't, they knew they were finished . . .' He paused to give that weight, and then went on:

 

'It is a very primitive matter. While we exist, we dominate them, that is clear and inevitable. Would you agree to be superseded, and start on the way to extinction without a struggle?’

 

‘That’s a very blinkered and cynical view of how people behave. Surely there were men and women of learning and reason who would have helped you integrate into society,’ John said.

 

‘A person can be reasonable, but people cannot. They develop a herd mentality and become a mob. And from the point of view of a ruler, could any State, however tolerant, afford to harbour an increasingly powerful minority which it has no power to control? Obviously the answer is no.

 

'We were safe for a time while the authorities talked about us. The more primitive of the masses let their instincts lead them. They wanted to hunt us down, and destroy us. The more liberal, responsibly-minded, and religious people were greatly troubled over the ethical position.’

 

‘And I’m guessing the political parties argued over you, each one claiming the moral high ground,’ John said.

 

'Correct,’ the boy said. ‘One party was reluctantly driven to consider drastic action against us, the other saw a chance of party capital, and possible dismissal of the Government. They defended our rights as a threatened minority, and children, at that. Their leaders glowed with righteousness on our behalf. They claimed to be representing justice, compassion, and the great heart of the people.

 

‘Then it occured to some of them that there really was a serious problem, and that if they had forced an election there would have been a split between the promoters of the party's official acceptance policy, and the rank and file whose misgivings about us made them an intolerance faction; so the display of abstract righteousness, and the plugging of well-tested, best-selling virtues diminished.'

 

John saw where this was going. 'And as the politicians debated, it occurred to them that the problem of dealing with a more advanced species than themselves was not going to be easy, and would become less easy as time passed.’

 

‘When they realised that, there were practical attempts to deal with us. They sent soldiers against us, so we made them attack each other. They sent aircraft, which we made the pilots crash. They probably thought of artillery or guided missiles, whose electronics we could not affect. But they would have killed all the people in the community as well. What government could survive such a massacre of innocents on the grounds of expediency? Not only would the party that sanctioned it be finished for good, but, if they were successful in removing the danger, the leaders could then have been safely lynched, by way of atonement and expiation.'

 

‘Wellll, I know of one case where the government made it look like an accident,’ John informed him as he scratched the back of his head. ‘But you lot, you used the people’s decency and morality against them.’

 

'There was a curious hiatus where all parties were fighting to keep out of office rather than be the one that had to take action against us.' He paused, looking out thoughtfully across the square.

 

‘And you used that hiatus to set yourselves up as the new rulers of each of the governments on the planet,’ John suggested and then frowned. ‘But did you have to establish such an oppressive State?’

 

‘That was not our doing. We just took control to protect ourselves. We gave the people a simple instruction; abide by the laws that they themselves had created . . . no violence, no conflict, no stealing for example. We told them that any infringement of the rules would be punished. The very leaders who had been fighting to keep out of office, stepped forward to take up office so that they could oversee this new, global Government.’

 

‘I bet they did,’ John scoffed. ‘And reap the rewards of office.’

 

'And there it is,’ the boy said in an adult tone of voice. ‘None of us have wishes that count in the matter . . . or should I say that both sides have been given the same wish . . . to survive? We are all, you see, toys of the life force. It made the population numerically strong, but mentally undeveloped; it made us mentally strong, but physically weak:  it set us at one another’s throats, to see what would happen. A cruel sport, perhaps, from both our points of view, but a very, very old one. Cruelty is as old as life itself.’

 

John silently considered the alien’s words before considering his own. ‘Your paranoia is second only to your arrogance,’ he said angrily. ‘You are right of course, survival is a cruel sport. But only if you are playing to win. What’s wrong with playing a sport just for the fun of it?’

 

‘Wouldn’t both sides ultimately end up losing? How can the fight for survival end in a draw? Who would keep score?’ the boy asked.

 

John had that scary look in his eyes as he grinned at the boy. ‘Every sports enthusiast knows what a sporting event needs.’

 

The boy tilted his head questioningly to one side. ‘And what is that?’

 

‘A referee,’ John said as he took a Torchwood stun pistol out of the pocket of his long coat and pointed it at the alien. ‘And this is my whistle. The game’s over, and I’ll leave it up to you as to whether it’s a draw, or if you lose.’

 

The boy’s eyes seemed to glow with a golden light as John turned the pistol to point it at himself. ‘I think you will find, that we win.’

 

John looked down at his own traitorous hand in disbelief, and back to the ice cold, dispassionate eyes of the alien. It had a smug, evil smile on its face as it made John pull the trigger.

 


	18. The Baby Hitler Dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Rose capture an alien child and take him back to Torchwood, but Captain McNabb has some bad news.

**Chapter 18**

 

**The Baby Hitler Dilemma**

  
  


ZZZAP!

 

The stun gun discharged its energy. But it wasn’t into John’s body; because after he had dismantled the gun in the TARDIS workshop, he had reassembled it with the barrel on backwards. The alien boy crumpled onto the flagstones.

 

[‘NOW!’] John shouted in Rose’s head.

 

The TARDIS materialised around them and quickly started to fade away.

 

In the TARDIS, both John and Rose felt the remaining sixty three minds forcing them to the console.

 

‘Heads up! Here they come. I think they’re a bit annoyed with me,’ John said.

 

The aliens were trying to reverse the flight and return them to the planet before it was fully in the Vortex, and out of their reach. John pressed buttons, whilst Rose turned dials. Finally, John pulled down the materialise/dematerialise lever to take them back.

 

Nothing happened.

 

‘Hah! Emergency protocol zero five beta,’ Rose said with glee as she felt the alien influence fade. ‘Genius!’

 

‘Thank you,’ John said with a waggle of his eyebrows. ‘Initiate a preset flight plan and disable all controls until said flight plan is completed.’

 

He grabbed his wife around the waist and pulled her close, kissing her on the lips and fondling her bum through the skirt of her smart uniform. 'And may I say, expertly executed.’

 

'Thank you,’ she said with her teasing smile, before returning the kiss. 'Mmph. Much as I love snoggin’ yer face off, shouldn’t we get “Brain Boy” here on ice?’

 

'Eh? Oh, the alien. Yes. Good point.’ He easily lifted the boy off the decking and threw him over his shoulder.

 

They left the Console room and headed down the corridor to the Medi-bay, where he lay him down on one of the couches. The couch sprang into life and started scanning its patient. Rose had picked up a headset and placed it on the boy’s head. She knew from John’s thoughts that the headset would keep the alien asleep while he ran the tests.

 

‘Kinda ironic when you think about it,’ she said as she switched on the headset. ‘Keepin’ him asleep while we experiment on him.’

 

He did see the irony of it and grinned. ‘Diagnostic tests are hardly experimenting though.’

 

Rose sidled up to him and playfully nudged his shoulder. ‘So what’ve yer diagnostic tests found then?’

 

‘Well, they’re not complete yet, but his brain is interesting,’ John said, putting on his brainy specs and looking at the screen. 

 

‘How so?’

 

‘The dorsolateral prefrontal cortex seems particularly well developed. And it seems to have an extra gyrus,’ he told her.

 

‘Ooh, I love it when you talk dirty,’ she said.

 

‘Shut up,’ he replied in a reversal of roles. ‘This part of the brain normally decides which voluntary movements to make according to higher-order instructions, rules, and self-generated thoughts.’

 

‘And you’re thinkin’ that this extra bit does all of that to other people.’

 

‘Yep. In people with psychic abilities, it’s called the prefrontal psionic gyrus. I’ve not seen one this well developed before.’

 

Rose suddenly had a worrying thought. ‘John? Are we ever goin’ to be able to let him wake up? Isn’t he just goin’ to make us let him go, or make us kill ourselves or somethin’?’

 

He sighed as he took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘That’s the million dollar question, and why we need to do all these tests. I wasn’t lying to him when I said I wanted to find a peaceful solution.’

 

‘I know Love,’ she said, rubbing his arm in support. ‘So what’cha got in mind?’

 

‘Well, first of all, let’s have a look at the recording you made of our encounter in front of that State building. Particularly the part where he made me pull the trigger.’ 

 

He went to the medical terminal on the desk and logged on. They watched as the boy’s eyes glowed with a faint, golden light.

 

'Reminds me of someone that does,’ John said as he watched.

 

'Really?’ Rose asked. 'Is that what my eyes look like when I’ve got the Bad Wolf vibe goin’ on?’

 

'Similar. But yours are a lot more intense. More powerful.’

 

They watched as John turned the gun on himself and pulled the trigger. Rose snorted a laugh at the look of surprise on the boy's face before he collapsed.

 

'That is never gonna get old,’ she told him. 'It’s pure slapstick.’

 

'Well, when the records said that people were attacking each other, it was a fair bet that these aliens were making them do it . . . Oh, here we are.’

 

John had a number of complex waveforms dancing across the screen in an intricate electronic ballet.

 

'What is that?’ Rose asked.

 

'Modulated electro-psionic radiation. It's like a remote control signal you'd send to a model aeroplane to fly it.’

 

‘Oh, and I get it. If you know the frequencies bein’ used, you can jam them,’ Rose realised.

 

John nodded. ‘Yeah. And if I’m right, I might be able to take it a step further.’

 

Rose saw his idea in her mind. ‘Oh my God, that’s brilliant! Do you think you’ll be able to do it?’

 

‘I hope so, because the alternative is unthinkable,’ John said, looking off into the distance. ‘But first things first. Let’s create a jammer.’

 

After half an hour of tinkering in the TARDIS workshop, John had created one of his cobbled together devices of which he was so fond of when he was in his “other” body in the old universe. It was a silver crash helmet, the kind he and Rose had worn when they had tried to go and see Elvis, but missed (again). Inside the helmet, he’d fitted loops of wire which were connected to a small control box in the centre. He’d fitted a padlock to the chin strap so that the alien couldn’t take it off.

 

‘Okay. Let’s try this on for size,’ he said as he walked into the Medi-bay.

 

‘How does it work then?’ Rose asked.

 

‘It’s a bit like noise cancelling headphones. It picks up the  electro-psionic waveforms inverts them, and then feeds them back. The two waveforms cancel each other out, and hey presto, the average amplitude of the signal is zero.’

 

‘So no brain control signals.’

 

‘No brain control signals,’ John confirmed as he moved to the head of the couch. ‘We’re going to have to be quick. If you take off the headset, I’ll put the helmet on. Okay?’

 

‘Okay. Yer ready? One, two, THREE!’ Rose snatched off the sleep headset, dishevelling the boy’s neat, silver hair.

 

John slipped the helmet over the boy’s head and thumped it down into place with the bottom of his fist. Rose fastened the chin strap and clicked the padlock into place.

 

‘Yes!’ Rose said with a fist pull. She held up her hand, and John high fived her.

 

‘Mmph . . . Where am I?’ the boy said sleepily.

 

‘In the TARDIS,’ John answered.

 

‘The what?’ the boy said, now fully awake.

 

‘It’s our ship,’ Rose explained. ‘It’s called the TARDIS.’

 

‘Where are the others?’ he asked with concern. His eyes glowed with a faint golden light. ‘Take me back.’

 

‘Er. I don’t think we will actually,’ John said. ‘We’ve taken away your mental powers, and your siblings are hundreds of light years away. You’re on your own kid . . . Scary, isn’t it.’

 

For the first time in his life, the boy was powerless and alone, and John was right. He was scared. Without the collective consciousness, he could no longer think like an adult. He was just a twelve year old boy, with all the usual issues that a twelve year old had. Tears were welling in his eyes.

 

‘What are you going to do with me?’ he asked with a trembling voice. 

 

The “mother” in Rose felt for this alien, even after all the things he and his siblings had done to the people on that planet. After all, he was only a year older than her own son Eyulf.

 

‘Don’t worry, we’re not going to hurt you. John is going to try and help you,’ she explained. ‘My name’s Rose, and this is John. What’s your name?’

 

‘We don’t have names, but my parents . . . my surrogates named me Zoriel.’

 

‘Okay Zoriel, we need your help,’ John told him. ‘Or more accurately, your species needs your help. Because if I can’t convince the people of my world that you are harmless, and you don’t agree to me making you permanently harmless; then I’m afraid there is no hope for you and your kind.’

 

Zoriel started to cry. ‘But I couldn’t help it . . . We couldn’t help it. It’s the way we are, and people were afraid of us. They wanted to kill us.’

 

‘They still do,’ John said, which made the Zoriel cry even more. ‘But they’ll have to get past me first. So what do you say . . . Will you help us?’

 

Zoriel nodded and wiped his wet cheeks with his hands. ‘Uh-huh. I’ll help you . . . but will I be able to go back to my brothers and sisters?’

 

Rose put a comforting arm around his shoulders. ‘Of course you will. And we’ll make sure you’re safe, won’t we?’ She looked at her husband questioningly.

 

John grinned at them. ‘Course we will.’

  
  


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The TARDIS materialised on the Standby Room landing pad with its usual wheezing and grinding noise. The right hand door opened inwards, and Rose stepped out, followed timidly by Zoriel.

 

‘Hi Honey. I’m home,’ John said jokily as he followed them out and closed the door.

 

‘Doc, Rose. Where the hell have you been?’ Andy asked with a hint of irritation in his voice.

 

‘You know,’ John said with a frown, pointing over his shoulder at the TARDIS. ‘We went to the Shadow Proclamation, and then to a planet which had a visitation from the same lot that visited Dunwich. Zoriel here is one of their offspring.’

 

‘What!? One of those dangerous aliens you told us about in the meeting? You brought one here?’

 

‘Calm down Andy. This one’s completely safe,’ John said, tapping Zoriel’s helmet with his knuckles. ‘His name’s Zoriel.’

 

Rose knew Andy really well, and she could tell that something was bothering him. ‘Andy, what’s wrong?’

 

‘The UNIT research facility at The Grange found out that all their female staff of child bearing age were pregnant,’ Andy informed them.

 

‘How did they . . ,’ Rose started to ask, and then worked it out for herself. ‘Margaret’s partner, Dianna.’ 

 

‘Yeah. She suspected that all the women would have been affected, and so did some research. She reported her findings to her bosses, and they notified UNIT HQ. They, in turn notified the Ministry of Defence, who called for an emergency meeting at COBR with the president. Jack was called to Number Ten to represent the Institute,’ Andy explained.

 

‘That sounds like a reasonable response,’ John said with a shrug.

 

‘Yeah, that does,’ Andy agreed. ‘But recommending compulsory abortions of all those involved doesn’t.’

 

‘WHAT?!’ John and Rose exclaimed together.

 

‘It gets worse,’ Andy said. ‘Marla got thinking and did some checking of her own with Trayne Hospital where the people on the buses where taken.’

 

‘Oh no, no, no, no,’ John cried out. ‘All the women on the buses were pregnant!’

 

‘That’s right. The M.O.D are including ALL those involved. That’s any female who was rendered unconscious within the zone of influence. ANY female.’

 

Rose spotted it immediately. ‘But Amy was rendered unconscious for an hour. Surely they can’t include her in this madness.’

 

‘Can’t they?’ Andy asked with obvious annoyance.

 

‘Has everyone taken leave of their senses while we’ve been away?’ John asked. ‘What if like Amy, the women conceived naturally and are carrying their own babies?’

 

‘Then you’d hope the M.O.D would run test to make sure,’ Andy said. ‘But I wouldn’t bet on it. Your story of global domination by a bunch of kids has gotten them all riled up. It’s a knee-jerk reaction.’

 

‘Come on Rose. We’re going to the Cabinet Office Briefing Rooms,’ John said, and opened the door of the TARDIS. ‘ZORIEL. You’re with us,’ he called from inside.

 

Rose ushered the boy inside. ‘This is gonna bring back some memories,’ she said as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

  
  


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The Cabinet Office Briefing Room, was a long, narrow room, with a long wooden table taking up most of the room. There was a long lighting panel on the ceiling, and the wall opposite the door was a multimedia display wall. Sitting around the table were a number of politicians, representatives of the armed forces, and various invited organisations. The President, Harriet Jones, was chairing the meeting.

 

‘So, Geoffrey. You propose to enforce terminations of pregnancy for every woman who was affected in the Dunwich incident?’ she clarified.

 

‘Yes Ma’am. Apparently Doctor Smith has some intel about the incident at Dunwich and the hazards it represents. The aliens these women carry will cause our extinction,’ he reported. Geoffrey Miller was Secretary of Defence for the Ministry.

 

‘That was a private, preliminary meeting, covered by the Official Secrets Act,’ Jack said angrily.

 

‘Yes. We know of your Institutes efforts to keep this secret,’ Miller retorted. ‘However, I am an official, and Doctor Haxby is a civilian. When she was asked about the meeting, she had no choice in answering our questions.’

 

‘Gentlemen, that is enough,’ Harriet told them. ‘Jack. Where is John. I could use his input on this matter.’

 

‘He went to the Shadow Proclamation to search their archives.’ He looked deliberately at Miller as he continued. ‘He went to gather evidence before people started making rash decisions.’

 

Harriet had a wry smile on her lips. ‘Quite right too. What danger do these alien babies present then?’

 

‘John remembered a story of a planet which had experienced a similar episode. The children were able to compel adults to do their bidding. As the children grew up, they dominated and then enslaved the indigenous populations. Eventually, the indigenous peoples were replaced by the aliens, and they became extinct,’ Jack explained. As he finished speaking, he heard a familiar sound down the hallway and breathed a sigh of relief.

 

‘Reason enough to take preemptive action,’ Kate Stewart, the head of UNIT said. ‘And I don’t think anyone here has forgotten the events of 2007. All of which could have been avoided with preemptive action.’

 

‘Oh Bravo,’ John said, breezing into the room and applauding. ‘Spoken like a true dictator.’

 

‘Ah John. So glad you could join us,’ Harriet said with relief.

 

‘So am I Harriet, and not before time by the sound of it.’ He gave Kate a withering look. ‘Oh Kate, Kate, Kate. I remember your father thinking like that in the early days of UNIT. Fortunately, something happened which changed his point of view.’

 

‘Why? What happened?’ Kate asked.

 

John gave her his cheeky grin. ‘He met me. Welllll, sort of. It was another me. And it was in another universe. But the principle still stands.’

 

‘And who is that?’ Harriet asked, as Rose ushered Zoriel into the room. ‘Hello Rose. How are the children?’

 

‘Hello Madam President. The kids are fine thanks. Growin’ up so quick these days. And this is Zoriel, one of the kids this lot want to execute,’ Rose said with an accusing look around the table. When her eyes met Jack’s, he gave her a smile and a wink.

 

The military commanders leaped out of their chairs. ‘You brought a hostile into this office? Are you mad?’ one of them asked.

 

‘Not mad, furious,’ John said. ‘Has the People’s Republic of Great Britain suddenly become a police state while I was away?’

 

‘Do you deny telling your meeting at Torchwood that these aliens were dangerous and would subjugate the human race?’ the army general asked.

 

‘What? How do you know what I said in that meeting?’ John asked with a frown.

 

‘Already covered that one John,’ Jack said.

 

‘Oh. Right. Well, no. I don’t deny it. Without intervention, it’s true. But I mean to intervene so that I can prevent a galactic massacre,’ John said, and then stopped. ‘Ooh. “Mean to intervene”, I like that.’

 

Jack gave him a lopsided smile. ‘So I take it you’ve neutralised his mental powers with that helmet.’

 

‘What? Zoriel here? Oh yes. He’s just a normal, scared and confused twelve year old child . . . Well. As normal as a child who’s just lost his ability to control people can be.’

 

He turned to Zoriel, who was looking around the room like a startled deer. ‘Do you trust me?’ he asked quietly.

 

Zoriel looked into his eyes and saw honesty and conviction residing there. ‘Yes . . . Yes I do.’

 

John nodded in satisfaction and smiled. ‘Good. Now what happens next is going to be scary. But I promise you will come to no harm, so don’t react to anything I say or do. Okay?’

 

The boy nodded.

 

‘I presume you have brought the boy here for a reason, John,’ Harriet said.

 

‘Of course Harriet.’ He reached into the pocket of his long, brown coat and took out a Heckler & Koch MP5SF, semi-automatic pistol and put it on the table. ‘He’s your test.’

 

‘Our test of what?’ Kate asked warily, eying the firearm with suspicion.

 

‘Conscience, conviction and resolve,’ John replied. ‘You see, you make all these decisions about what should be done, and then you hand over responsibility for carrying out the sentence to someone else. In this case, it’s to a bunch of medical workers who will perform the abortions.’

 

He looked at the faces around the table. ‘Well not today. This child and his siblings have turned a planet into an Orwellian nightmare. And if I take the helmet off, he’ll do the same to you lot. So who among you will be the first to pick up the gun, look him in the eye, and kill him in cold blood?’

 

‘But you’ve neutralised the threat,’ one of the generals reminded him.

 

‘Shall I remove the helmet then. Would that make it easier for you to justify your actions?’

 

‘But then he’d stop us,’ another said.

 

‘And that, is the “kill baby Hitler dilemma” in a nutshell,’ John said. ‘And yet you would gladly hand the gun to someone else to do it for you. They’d just be following orders, absolving themselves of any responsibility.’

 

‘So are you saying that when they are born, everyone of the children will have to wear a helmet for the rest of their lives?’

Kate asked.

 

John scratched the back of his neck and pulled a face. ‘Wellll. That would be one way of doing it. A bit impractical though. I mean, what about when they want to wash or cut their hair.’

 

‘Playing devil’s advocate and all that,’ Harriet said. ‘Are you going to force these women to give birth to these dangerous aliens?’

 

John gave her an open mouthed grin. ‘Ooh I just knew it’d be you who asked that one Harriet. No. They didn’t ask for this, but they may want to be the best of humanity. And I’m going to give them that opportunity.’

 


	19. The End Of A Hectic Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John scans an alien's brain, whilst Rose arranges a dinner date.

**Chapter 19**

 

**The End Of A Hectic Day**

 

  
  


‘Hah! I wish I’d had a camera,’ Jack laughed. ‘The look on General Roberts face when you told him he’d got to shoot our young friend here.’

 

Rose laughed with him. ‘Yeah. It certainly made them aware of the consequences of the decisions they make.’

 

‘And talking of consequences, does everyone in Dunwich know the truth now?’ John asked. ‘Because if the press get hold of this and we haven’t got a handle on it . . .’

 

‘Ah, now that’s one thing we can thank UNIT for,’ Jack informed him. ‘When Diana Dawson did her own blood tests on The Grange staff and reported her findings to Colonel Latcher, he put The Grange in lock down and invoked the Official Secrets Act.’

 

‘We should be grateful for small mercies,’ John said with a cheeky grin. ‘Or in this case, small minds.’

 

Jack laughed and continued. ‘Alice has taken some of her staff to Dunwich to prepare the briefing. They’re staying at the Inn. The police at Trayne have agreed to contact the people who were on the buses and take them to Dunwich for the meeting.’

 

John nodded. ‘Good. When is it scheduled for?’

 

‘Around 12:30 in the village hall,’ said Jack.

 

‘John, what are we goin’ to do with Zoriel ‘til then?’ Rose asked.

 

‘Well, I’ve got to do some detailed scans of his brain while he tries to do his remote control, brainy . . . wainy . . . stuff,’ John said with a wince.

 

‘Brainy-wainy?’ Rose asked with a laugh.

 

‘Okay. How does psionic telemotor compulsion sound?’ he asked.

 

‘A lot more scientific than brainy-wainy, that’s for sure.’

 

Jack was grinning at their banter. ‘Okay. I’ll leave you kids to it then. You’ll need to be in Dunwich at least an hour before the meeting so that you can liaise with Alice on how best to break the news.’ He stood up and headed for the door, when he suddenly remembered a promise he’d made.

 

‘Oh. I nearly forgot. I’ve got a phone number here for you.’ He reached into his RAF grey coat pocket and took out a beer mat from the Scythe and Stone Inn and handed it to Rose.

 

She looked at the cardboard coaster and saw a mobile phone number written on it. ‘Whose number is it?’

 

‘It belongs to a woman I met in the pub when I went to the memorial service,’ Jack told them. ‘Her name is Templeton, Donna Templeton. She and her husband were on holiday when the incident happened. They got back the day after everyone had woken up. A lovely couple, and she is your absolute numero uno, ultimate number one fan. I said you’d give her a ring because I knew you’d be as excited to meet her as she is to meet you.’

 

Rose rolled her eyes. Not another groupie. ‘And why would we be excited to meet another fan of the show?’

 

Jack gave them his perfect smile. ‘Because her maiden name was Noble . . . Don’t forget, nice and early tomorrow you two.’ He turned around and left them with stunned expressions on their faces.

 

 

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

  
  


Donna Templeton took her mobile phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and checked it again. Yes, she still had three bars on the signal strength indicator. No, she still had no missed calls. She sighed and put it back in her pocket. She realised that a busy, celebrity heiress, and a world renowned scientist wouldn’t want to phone her. Why would they? She wasn’t important. She was nobody. Just a secretary from Chiswick who had married her gorgeous boss.

 

But Jack Harkness had promised to pass on her number, and seemed certain that for some reason Rose and John Smith would want to speak to her. And they seemed such a genuine couple when they were on camera. Maybe that was all show, but she couldn’t believe that of them. She had seen and recorded the news when they had landed in Ecuador last Thursday, so she knew they were back from their holiday. She presumed they would have been back at Torchwood today, Monday.

 

She jumped when she heard “diddle-de-dum, diddle-de-dum, diddle-de-dum, dah”, from her back pocket.

 

‘Oh my God.’ She fumbled with the phone and saw the caller was unknown. ‘It’s them,’ she said to herself and answered the call. There was a delay before she heard a voice.

 

[‘Have you been injured in an accident? Ever wondered if you could claim compensation . . ?’]

 

‘I know somebody who’ll be havin’ an accident if I get me hands on ya mate,’ she said to the automated call as she disconnected.

 

‘Still haven’t called then?’ Shaun asked as he came into the kitchen from his study at the back of the cottage.

 

‘Nah. They’re not goin’ to bother to call someone like me, are they.’

 

‘That Captain Harkness seemed to think they would be keen,’ he said supportively. ‘And don’t forget, they’ve been away for two weeks. They’re going to have a lot of paperwork to catch up on.’

 

‘Oh yeah. I hadn’t thought of that,’ Donna said, feeling a little more optimistic. 

 

She heard the letterbox rattle in the front door, and went to see what had been posted through. It was too early for the regular post office delivery. She saw a folded piece of paper sticking through the flap of the letterbox. She pulled it through and opened it up as she walked along the short hallway to the kitchen.

 

‘What’s that you’ve got?’ Shaun asked her.

 

‘It’s a flyer about The Narcolepsy incident,’ she said as she read the leaflet. ‘There’s a meetin’ at the village hall tomorrow at twelve thirty,’ she read, and then became more excited. ‘It says Torchwood are gonna be there. They’ve got an update on their investigation which will impact on everyone in the village. They’re askin’ for everyone to attend.’ She looked up at Shaun, mouth open. ‘I bet Doctor Smith’s gonna be there, bein’ the scientific advisor. I bet that’s why they haven’t had time to phone.’

 

Shaun smiled at her hopeful enthusiasm. ‘But we weren’t involved in the incident. It can’t mean us.’

 

‘It-says, “impact-on-everyone-in-the-village”,’ she said, deliberately emphasizing each word with a head wobble of attitude. ‘We’re in the village, so we’re goin’.’

 

Shaun had learned not to argue with his wife when she wobbled her head like that.

 

Diddle-de-dum, diddle-de-dum, diddle-de-dum, dah, her phone sang in her pocket. ‘Oh not another nuisance call again,’ she said as she took it out of her pocket. The display said “unknown” again.

 

She answered the call and put the phone to her ear. ‘No, I have not had an accident!’ she told the automated voice.

 

[‘I’m sorry?’] a familiar female voice asked.

 

Donna stood open mouthed, frozen to the spot. She managed to get her mouth moving. ‘Hello?’

 

[‘Is that Donna?’] she heard the object of her fascination, Rose Smith ask.

 

‘Yeah. That’s me.’

 

[‘And was that Donna Noble before you were married?’]

 

‘Yeah. That was me,’ was all she could think of saying. For once in her life, she was completely lost for words.

 

[‘(It’s her!)’] she heard the woman say excitedly to someone else.

 

[‘(Here, let me have a word.) Hello. Is that really you Donna?’] she heard Doctor John Smith ask her.

 

‘Er, we’ve already covered that. Yeah, it’s still me.’

 

[‘Oh my God. It IS you! It is her. (Yeah, I know.)’]

 

‘Yeah. I know as well. Is that really you an’ Rose? Phonin’ me?’ she asked. ‘This isn’t Nerys is it?’

 

[‘Who’s Nerys?’] John asked. [‘Hang on. I’ll put it on speakerphone . . . There, that should be better. Hello Donna. It’s the Doctor and Rose, and WE are so glad Jack found you.’]

 

‘Oh-this-is-BRILLIANT!,’ Donna exclaimed. And then the reality of the situation hit her. ‘But . . . Why me . . ? Not that I’m not over the moon about this.’

 

[‘Hah. Over the Moon. That’s a good one,’] John said with a laugh. [‘Still the same old Donna sense of humour. (John?) Eh? (She wants to know why her.) Oh. Yeah. Because, Donna Noble, you-are-brilliant . . . (Let me have my phone back.) Sorry Donna, you’ll get no sense out of him at the moment, he’s too excited. It’s a long, complicated story spannin’ two universes, and we would love to explain it to you. Will you be at the meetin’ tomorrow?’]

 

‘Yeah. Definitely! I was just readin’ the flyer when you phoned.’

 

[‘Good. We’ll see you after the meetin’, and arrange a time when you can come to dinner so we can tell you the story,’] said Rose.

 

‘Dinner. You mean at your house? You’re invitin’ me to dinner at your house?’

 

[‘We could have dinner in the shed if you’d prefer,’] John said. [‘John! Behave . . . Yes Donna, at our house, if that’s all right. Only the information is confidential, and we don’t want anyone in a restaurant or bistro eavesdroppin’.’]

 

Donna nearly squealed. ‘No. Dinner at yours is fine. I’ll clear my diary, so I’m available any time.’ she beamed a smile at Shaun, and then realised he hadn’t been mentioned. ‘Er, can I ask . . ? Is my husband included in the invite.’

 

She heard Rose laugh. [‘Oh Donna. Of course Shaun is invited. He needs to hear what we’ve got to say as well.’]

 

‘That is SO kind of you. Thank you. We’ll see you tomorrow.’

 

[‘See you tomorrow. Bye.’]

 

Rose disconnected the call and looked at John. He had a dopey smile on his face, and his eyes glistened with tears.

 

‘We’re going to meet Donna Noble,’ he said.

 

‘Donna Templeton,’ she corrected him.

 

‘Whatever . . . It’s Donna.’

 

‘Right. So how’s the scan comin’ along?’ She asked, giving Zoriel a warm smile as he lay on the Medi-bay couch in the TARDIS.

 

John looked at the screen. ‘All done. We have a baseline, high resolution 3D scan of his brain. What we need to do now Zoriel, is ask you to try and make me do something against my will, like you did with the stun gun.’

 

‘What stun gun?’ Zoriel asked with a frown.

 

‘You know. On your planet. You made me turn the gun on myself.’

 

‘Oh, yes. I remember,’ he said with a wan smile.

 

‘Hmmm,’ John said with a worried frown. ‘Okay. So, make me stand up.’

 

Zoriel’s brow creased as he tried to concentrate. They knew nothing would happen, because the helmet was blocking the signals, but the functional scan overlaid on the 3D scan should show increased activity in the area responsible for his telepathic powers. John watched the screen, but there were only minor changes in brain activity, and not really conclusive.

 

‘I was watchin’ his eyes, John, and there was no glow like you saw before,’ Rose told him.

 

John scratched the back of his neck. ‘The helmet shouldn’t stop the neurons from firing, just the psionic waves from getting out . . . I think we need an emotional element to boost the output.’

 

[‘John, what are you goin’ to do?’] Rose asked in his head.

 

[‘Nothing dangerous or that will hurt him. We need something to surprise him. Y’know, like a practical joke.’] He showed her his idea in her head. [‘How good’s your acting?’]

 

[‘Good enough for that,’] she told him.

 

‘Rose, Would you pass me the neural stimulator out of the draw please?’

 

She went over to a set of draws and took out an opthalmoscope. ‘Is this it?’

 

‘That’s the one.’

 

She handed it over, and John held her wrist. ‘I just need to show Zoriel how it works,’ he said and touched the ophthalmoscope on the back of her hand.

 

Rose squealed and writhed as she tried to pull her hand free. John released her wrist and she pulled away, rubbing her hand.

 

‘Jesus John! That really hurt.’

 

‘Sorry Love, but I need Zoriel to realise what will happen if he doesn’t try and stop me.’ He moved towards the terrified boy on the couch, with the ophthalmoscope poised ready.

 

‘No. Please. Don’t!’ Zoriel cried. His eyes were wide, and had a golden hue to them.

 

[‘John. Stop it please. He’s terrified,’] Rose thought to him.

 

John touched the ophthalmoscope to the back of his own hand and said, ‘bzzzt. Bzzzt.’ Rose held Zoriel’s hand and tried to comfort him.

 

‘Sorry about that Zoriel. It’s just a device for looking in people’s eyes. It doesn't cause any pain. I just needed you to think it did, so you would use your mind to stop me.’ He looked at the scanner screen and saw a number of colours superimposed on the 3D scan. ‘Hah. Bingo. It worked.’ He put his brainy specs on and leaned in close to the screen. ‘Ooh, now that’s interesting.’

 

‘What’cha found?’ Rose asked. Zoriel sat up and looked over as well.

 

‘We knew the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex had that extra gyrus, and we were right that it’s involved in the propagation of the psionic waves. But look at that in the basal ganglia.’ He used the mouse to rotate the 3D model and look at it from underneath. ‘The Amygdala is firing, and there’s a tract linking them together.’

 

‘So, not as straightforward as you hoped then,’ Rose said.

 

‘No. But still doable,’ he replied with a smile. ‘Bear with me Zoriel. We’ll have you back with your siblings before you know it.’

 

Zoriel grabbed John’s hand as a tear trickled down his cheek. ‘Thank you John, and you Rose. I’m not sure we deserve your help after everything we’ve done.’

 

John squeezed his hand in return, turned to the screen, and pointed at the superimposed nerve tracts. ‘See that? Those nerve tracts are responsible for what happened on your planet, not you. And I’m going to fix it for you. I promise.’

 

‘Well that’s sorted then,’ Rose said, standing up and checking her wristwatch. ‘We’re comin’ to the end of the shift John. I’ll have to hand over the Watch, and then we’ll have to get the kids.’ It was then that she realised John hadn’t answered her earlier question. ‘John, what’s goin’ to happen to Zoriel? Where’s he goin’ to stay while you sort his brain out?’

 

‘Oh yeah. I hadn’t thought about that.’ He scratched the back of his head. ‘There’s the apartments on floor thirty two.’

 

‘John, he’s twelve. He needs lookin’ after,’ said Rose.

 

‘Well, the Hospital Wing then. The nursing staff will be able to keep an eye on him and see to his every whim,’ John said, giving Zoriel a wink and a cheeky grin.

 

[‘Can’t he stay with us tonight? He’s never been on his own before, and I think meetin’ the kids will be good for him.’]

 

John smiled and enveloped her in his arms. He kissed her on the lips. ‘Once again, your compassion leaves me humbled. I love you.’ He turned to Zoriel. ‘How would you like to stay with us for a few days while I work out how to help you?’

 

Zoriel looked from one to the other. ‘I would like that very much.’

 

The three of them stepped out of the TARDIS into the Standby Room, and Rose started towards the office, when she saw Angel and André walking through the doors.

 

‘Oh my God, John. Angel and André. You were going to see Martha about their . . . problem.’

 

‘Oh yes. With everything going on, I haven’t had chance. Tell you what, let’s go see Martha now and get the egg rolling,’ he said with a cheeky smile.

 

Rose rolled her eyes. ‘I can’t believe you just said that.’ 

 

She sat Zoriel on one of the comfy chairs and introduced him to the members of the watch who weren’t on assignment, which was most of them. There was only “Irish” Stu and “Welsh” Pete who were still on a shout, and White Watch would probably have to relieve them. Gwen started chatting to Zoriel whilst Rose prepared the handover paperwork.

 

In the Hospital Wing, John was directed to one of the consulting rooms, where he found Marla. ‘Hi Martha. I meant to come and see you earlier, but things got away from me a bit.’

 

‘Never mind. You said you needed some help with Angel and André’s fertility issues,’ Marla recalled.

 

‘Yes. In a nutshell, you know that sperm go through capacitation to prepare them for the acrosome reaction?’ John asked Marla.

 

‘Yes. That’s  the enzymatic penetration of the egg's tough membrane, the zona pellucida,’ Marla explained, for  Angel and André’s benefit.

 

‘Right. Like a lock and key,’ John said, holding his thumb and fingertip together. ‘But there are many locks and keys. First the sperm has to get through the follicle cells of the corona radiata.’

 

‘Ah, I can see where you’re going with this,’ Marla said. ‘Human sperm cells have the wrong set of enzyme “keys”.’

‘Exactly. What if we could change the keys so that they could unlock the corona radiata and  zona pellucida ?’

 

‘Bit of an ask,’ Marla replied. ‘Wouldn’t it be easier to do in vitro fertilization?’

 

‘You could, yes. But then there’s no guarantee that after in vitro fertilization, the embryo isn’t damaged in some way and doesn’t implant.’

 

‘Which is why many of the in vitro embryos fail. So what do you propose?’ Marla asked.

 

‘Eluting stents in the fallopian tubes which slowly release enzymes which will change the keys on the sperm as they swim past,’ John explained. ‘I can create the stents. Can you put them in the right place?’

 

‘You’re kidding me,’ Marla said. ‘Of course I can.’

  
  


+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

  
  


The TARDIS materialised in living room of Tyler mansion, to the wheezing, groaning sound of time and space being bent out of shape. The right hand door opened inwards, and Rose stepped out, leading Zoriel by the hand.

 

‘It’s all right Zoriel. This is my family, no one’s going to hurt you,’ Rose reassured him. 

 

‘Hi Sweetheart. What’cha been up to then?’ Jackie greeted them. ‘When y’come in the TARDIS, it usually means yer’ve been lookin’ for trouble . . . And is John not with ya?’

 

‘Hi everyone. John lost the toss and has to drive the DeLorien home through the traffic,’ Rose explained, and then thought about what her mother had said. ‘What’cha mean, “lookin’ for trouble”? I’ve come to pick up the kids, and introduce you to Zoriel . . . Say hello Zoriel.’

 

He looked nervously at the people in the room. ‘Hello.’

 

‘Zoriel is from another planet, and he’s helping us with the investigation into the Dunwich incident,’ Rose told them. ‘This is my mum, Jackie. My dad, Pete, and two of my children, Juleshka and Jason. My eldest son, Eyulf makes his own way home with his friends. You’ll meet him when we get home.’

 

‘Takin’ in strays are ya now?’ Jackie asked with a lopsided smile. She could see that Zoriel was nervous. She went over and gently rubbed his upper arm. ‘Hello Zoriel. Welcome to our home.’

 

He looked up at  Rose for reassurance, and she nodded. He looked back at Jackie. ‘Thank you.’

 

Jason strolled up to him. ‘Hi. I’m Jason. I like your crash helmet.’

 

‘Thank you. It’s necessary for me to wear it so I do not cause you any harm.’

 

Pete looked at Rose with concern. ‘Rose?’

 

‘It’s all right Dad. He’s grown up with the ability to compel people to do things, and he’s had nobody to guide him and tell him it’s wrong. John designed the helmet so that it blocks the signals.’

 

Juleshka came up to him. ‘Does that mean he’ll have to wear that for the rest of his life?’ she asked her mother.

 

‘No Sweetheart. Your dad’s goin’ to help him so he can take the helmet off,’ Rose told her. ‘So, are you both ready to go home?’

 

‘Yes Mum,’ they said together, and picked up their bags and coats. They had a kiss and a cuddle off their grandparents and stepped into the TARDIS. Rose guided Zoriel inside, and Jackie held her elbow.

 

‘I don’t know what you’ve gotten yerself into Sweetheart, but the children will be safe won’t they?’ Jackie asked her quietly.

 

Rose kissed her on the cheek. ‘Yeah Mum, they’re safe. I wouldn’t let him within a million miles of the kids if it wasn’t safe. It’s just that the people on his planet were so afraid of him, that they would have torn him limb from limb.’

 

‘Okay Sweetheart. Thanks for that. See ya tomorrow then,’ Jackie said.

 

‘Yeah. See ya both tomorrow. Bye.’ She stepped inside and closed the door. Once again, the room filled with the wheezing, grinding sound, as the TARDIS slowly faded away.

 

 


	20. Ethical Dilemmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The village of Dunwich has a meeting, and as usual, things don't go according to plan.  
> At the beginning of this chapter, I borrowed a scene from "Partners in Crime". See if you can spot it.

**Chapter 20**

 

**Ethical Dilemmas**

  
  


**The Village Green.**

 

**Dunwich.**

 

**Tuesday, 8th October.**

 

**12:15.**

  
  


The village hall in Dunwich was a long, wooden building, with a raised stage at the far end where the amateur dramatic society would present plays, musicals, and pantomimes at Christmas. Presently, it had a long, trestle table where Charles and Milly Willers, Hubert and Dora Leebody, and Gordon, Angela and Ferrelyn Zellaby were sitting, along with Torchwood representatives, Alice Dimaggio and John Smith. Sitting next to John, who was wearing his usual brown suit and long coat, was Zoriel, still wearing his helmet, with Rose sitting next to him, wearing her black dress uniform, and holding his hand for moral support.

 

Rose had been right about their children being good for Zoriel. Eyulf was of a similar age, and although they seemed to have little in common besides that, when he started talking about the telepathic link with his brother and sister, Zoriel started to open up about how he missed having his siblings in his head. Rose could hardly bear it when Jason asked him why he would want to make people do things they didn’t want to, and Zoriel told them that it was either that or being lynched by an angry mob.

 

“That’s a catch twenty two”, Eyulf had spotted. “If you didn’t have the ability to do that, you wouldn’t need to use an ability like that. And because you have the ability, people are scared of it and so you have to use it to stay alive. That sucks!”

 

“I love being able to talk to my family in my head,” Juleshka had told Zoriel. “But I wouldn’t want be able to manipulate people. Too much temptation to misuse it.”

 

Rose remembered John looking at her with such a look of fatherly pride on his face, and feeling his resolve to help this young alien put things right.

 

People were filtering into the hall and finding a seat. The police in Trayne had used the station minibus to ferry in people from Trayne, Oppley, Stouch and Hickham who had been on the buses involved in the incident. The staff of The Grange entered and sat at the back of the hall, still feeling as though there was some hostility towards UNIT. Dora Leebody waved for her niece Polly to join them on the stage, but she shook her head, wanting to stay with her friends and colleagues.

 

A dark skinned man and red haired woman walked in and looked around.

 

‘Rose,’ John said with a big grin and nodded at the doors.

 

Rose looked and her mouth fell open. ‘Oh my God, it’s Donna.’

 

They both waved, and Donna saw them. She pointed at her face with her index fingers and mouthed [‘it’s me!’]

 

[‘We know!’] they mouthed back.

 

Donna gave them a double thumbs up. [‘Brilliant!’] 

 

She dragged Shaun through the hall and took a seat as near to the front as she could. A few elderly people entered next, Doctor Willers ticked their names on a sheet which Alice had provided. Alfred Wait, Jane Crankhart. Francine Welt from the village shop. When David and Erica Pawle from Dacre Farm entered, with their children Jim, David & Elsa, Willers ticked off the last of the names on the list and nodded to Alice.

 

Alice stood up, and the hum of conversation faded away. ‘Hello everyone. My name is Alice DiMaggio, and I’d like to thank you all for coming today. I think most of you know John Smith, the Scientific Advisor at Torchwood, and his wife Rose, Blue Watch Supervisor. My role is as Lead Clinical Psychologist and Counsellor. John will give you an update on how the investigation is progressing, however, our laboratories have come up with some information of which you need to be aware. I think it would be best if this information came from someone you all know and trust, so I’ll hand over to Doctor Willers and Reverend Leebody.’

 

Alice sat down and Milly Willers squeezed her husband’s hand in support as he stood. Hubert stood as well and nodded to him.

 

‘Right. Where to start . . ? Some of you already know what I am about to say, and please don’t think badly of these people. They were sworn to secrecy, and it will become obvious why when you hear what I have to say,’ Willers said.

 

‘Oh get on with Charlie,’ a woman called Tilly Foresham called out. She was wearing corduroy trousers, check shirt and Barber jacket. A ripple of quiet laughter went around the hall.

 

‘Very well. There’s no easy way to say this. All women of childbearing age who were affected by The Narcolepsy, have been found to have  human chorionic gonadotrophin hormone present in their blood. This hormone is the one that is detected when you use a pregnancy test kit,’ Charles told them, waiting for the implications to sink in. ‘Yes. If you fall into that age category, then you are pregnant.’

 

There were gasps and cries from around the hall, along with exclamations of “no”, “impossible” and “but I haven’t had sex”, along with questions such as “how” and “who”. 

 

Hubert Leebody held up his hands. ‘Please . . . Please, we will try to answer all of your questions. We know this is a terrible shock. Charles, Gordon and myself told our wives, and Gordon’s daughter first so that they could assimilate the information and try to come to terms with it. So, they know exactly how you are feeling at the moment, and they can support you as you come to terms with what you have just learned.’

 

‘I am sorry I have had to give you this information,’ Willers said. ‘But if we all pull together, I think we can get through this. I’ll now hand over to Doctor Smith to bring everyone up to speed with what is known about The Narcolepsy, and possible courses of action.’

 

‘Hello,’ John said hesitantly. He still didn’t like public speaking. ‘I am SO sorry about what has happened to you, and I will do everything I can to help you. I’m going to tell you what I know, what I’ve found out, and the options available to you. First of all though, I’d like you to meet Zoriel.’ John held his arm out to indicate the young boy in a crash helmet sitting next to his wife. 

 

‘Why am I here?’ Zoriel asked Rose.

 

‘Don’t you remember? John wanted them to see that you are a person, rather than an unseen “something” lying in their wombs,’ Rose reminded him.

 

‘Oh. Right,’ Zoriel said.

 

‘Like the soldiers in the Cabinet Office. They couldn’t shoot you because you were there,’ Rose added.

 

‘What soldiers?’

 

John faltered in his narrative as he listened to Zoriel. Something was wrong. His brain was losing its ability to retain information.

 

‘Er, yes. Zoriel. He’s twelve years old, and he’s an alien,’ John continued. There were more mutterings around the hall. ‘Yes, an alien. Those of you who watch the Torchwood documentary will know that they exist. We even have alien members of staff. I’ll come to why Zoriel is here later. Oh, and don’t pay any attention to the helmet for now. It’s technical.’

 

John was starting to relax into the briefing. ‘On Wednesday the 23rd of September, an alien force, using a sophisticated cloaking device, landed in the ruins of St Accius' Abbey. At seventeen minutes past ten that night, by means unknown, this alien force put every living animal within a mile radius into a coma. For 35 hours and 10 minutes, our field agents at Torchwood stood vigil and sent in remote surveillance devices to keep an eye on you and try to find those responsible.’

 

John scratched the back of his head. ‘The aliens must have been using personal cloaking devices, because we saw nothing. We now know what they were doing under the cover of those cloaking devices and the affected area around the village. Now, we’ve been to a sort of “space Interpol” to try and find out who did this, and if they’d done it before . . . and they have!’

 

Once again, there were mutterings, and John heard “where”, “when”, “who are they”.

 

‘I don’t know who those are that committed the deed, YET. But trust me, I will. I do know however, what has been implanted inside you,’ John said, and moved to stand behind Zoriel. He put his hands on Zoriel’s shoulders.

 

‘Twelve years ago, a community on a planet light years from here, fell into a coma for around 36 hours. The women of that community became pregnant, and gave birth to sixty two children. They nurtured those children as if they were their own. Now, it may be that they accepted the children as their own, or . . . they may have had no choice.’

 

This time there were gasps from the audience. ‘Zoriel here is one of those sixty two children.’

 

This time, stunned silence. ‘Now you can pay attention to the helmet,’ he told them. ‘It is blocking certain brain waves which would make you all do what he wanted you to do.’

 

He saw people starting to panic. ‘You are perfectly safe. With the helmet on, he is just an ordinary twelve year old boy. He spent last night at our house with our children, and for the first time in his life, he had people talk to him who weren’t afraid of him or wanted to kill him.’

 

Gordon Zellaby was a well read man, and an author of many books on ethics and social issues. And he’d also read Lord of the Flies. ‘Doctor Smith?’ he said to get John’s attention. John turned to him. ‘What happened to Zoriel’s world?’

 

John was annoyed by this interruption because he wanted more time to explain. ‘First of all, I want to say that it wasn’t his fault.’

 

But Zellaby was not to be distracted. ‘What happened Doctor Smith?’

 

‘When anyone frightened the children, or did something they didn’t like, they would have a knee jerk reaction and make people stop doing what it was that frightened them or that they didn’t like,’ John explained. ‘This in turn frightened the people. And we know what happens when a crowd of people get frightened . . .’

 

‘They become a mob,’ Zellaby said.

 

‘Exactly,’ John ageed. ‘And then things got nasty. The children defended themselves the only way they knew how.’

 

‘They turned the mob on itself?’ Zellaby asked, already knowing the answer.

 

John nodded. ‘Yes. They imposed their own order on society, although it was quite reasonable in a way. Live by the laws and rules you have made and leave us alone.’

 

‘Or else,’ Zellaby added.

 

‘Yes. Or else. With supreme leaders, who have supreme rule of law, the power hungry underlings crawl out from under the stones and enforce that law,’ John said.

 

Zellby had also read George Orwell. ‘And you have a world of complete domination and oppression.’

 

The people in the hall had been listening to the exchange, and suddenly erupted into arguments and discussions. Some were standing, to talk with people behind either them or across the hall.

 

‘We have to stop them while we still can,’ someone said.

 

‘But if they are brought up in a loving family . . .’ another reasoned.

 

‘And when they have a tantrum. What then . . ?’  Erica Pawle asked, looking down at her youngest child who was going through the “terrible twos”.

 

‘Well I didn’t ask to be pregnant. I’m having an abortion . . !’

 

‘Me too. I’m not going to be a “womb for hire” to some passing alien . . .’

 

John tried to get back control of the meeting. ‘Wait . . . Let me finish. I can change the structure of their brains . . .’

 

His words were drowned out by all the voices in the room. He looked at Rose who had a worried expression on her face. He turned back to face the crowd, his coat swirling around him.

 

‘THAT-IS-ENOUGH!’ he said without shouting, but everyone heard him. His eyes were dark with the oncoming storm. The room fell silent. He knew what it was like to be forced into parenthood. To have a tissue sample taken at gunpoint, and have a daughter grown from that sample. 

 

‘So you want to have abortions? Even when I can fix their brains so that they won’t be able to coerce people to do their bidding? You want to kill innocent victims of a quirk of their biology?’

 

Margaret Haxby’s lone voice broke the silence from the back of the hall. ‘But we didn’t ask for this.’ 

 

John knew her views on what had been done to her and what she was going to do about it. ‘Neither did they. They had no choice in this. Just as every single one of us here had no choice in being born . . . Look, I know you didn’t have a choice, and that’s wrong. They should have asked. And I know there are some women in this world who would have shown compassion for a race who could not carry their own babies, and were so desperate that they would resort to stealing a womb. But you have a choice now. Please, show the universe out there how amazing you can be.’

 

John stopped talking. He didn’t think there was anything else he could say. He just hoped he had said enough. He turned back to the table, and Alice nodded her approval. He’d taken a frightened, angry mob, and turned them into a thinking, feeling group of individuals.

 

‘Ever thought of going into politics?’ Zellaby asked him with a smile as he patted him on the back.

 

‘Tried it once,’ John told him, thinking of his presidency on Gallifrey. ‘Not really my thing.’

 

‘Hmm. Pity.’

 

‘John!’ Rose called out urgently. ‘Something’s wrong with Zoriel.’

 

John rushed around the table to where Zoriel had slumped to the floor. Rose was kneeling beside him, using her first aid training and putting him into the recovery position. Doctor Willers and Alice hurried over also the give their professional support. He was having convulsions.

 

Willers took control and started to examine his patient. ‘Is he a known epileptic?’

 

John shook his head. ‘No. This seizure is being caused by the suppression of his psionic abilities. Rose, have you noticed how he was having trouble remembering things?’

 

‘Yeah. He didn’t even know why he was here, and we’d explained it all to him last night,’ Rose said.

 

‘Aren’t the basal nuclei involved in processing and storing memories?’ Alice asked.

 

John nodded. ‘The anterior nuclei of the thalamus and the hypothalamus. His basal nuclei are linked to the area of his brain which gives him his psychic abilities. The helmet has been starving his brain of signals from his siblings. I should have realised. It’s like cutting off the blood supply to a limb, it withers and eventually dies.’

 

‘Surely that’s not true,’ Willers said.

 

‘Look at the evidence in front of you,’ John said urgently. ‘His is a hive mind, a shared consciousness. Out on its own, it can’t survive.’ He knelt down close to Zoriel’s face. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.’

 

‘John. He’s dyin’,’ Rose said. ‘You’ve got to do somethin’.’

 

John looked at her and she saw THAT expression. ‘I have to take the helmet off.’

 

‘But if you do that . . . As he is now, he’s terrified. His brain will lash out,’ Rose reminded him.

 

‘And if I leave it on, his brain dies . . . Look, if I put the helmet on myself, I won’t be affected. I can hurry to the TARDIS and get him sedated in the Medi-bay.’ He waited for Rose’s approval, because she would be affected by the backlash.

 

Rose looked at the shuddering, jerking child in front of her, and thought of EJ. Her motherly instinct kicked in. ‘Do it!’

 

John took his sonic screwdriver from inside his jacket and unlocked the chinstrap on the helmet. ‘Ready? One, two, THREE!’

 

He yanked off the helmet and Zoriel gasped, as he put the helmet on his own head. He didn’t need the chin strap as he wasn’t going to take it off anytime soon. He held Zoriel’s head in his hands, two fingers on each temple and reached out to him.

 

[‘Zoriel . . . Zoriel, it’s okay. It’s okay. You’re safe now. I’m here, you’re safe,’] John thought to him.

 

Around them there was chaos in the hall. People were screaming, holding their heads and falling to their knees as Zoriel’s fear and anguish filled their heads to bursting. 

 

It hurt.

 

[‘Zoriel, it’s all right. You can stop being afraid. Can you hear your brothers and sisters calling to you from across the stars?’]

 

[‘Brothers? Sisters?] Zoriel thought, coming out of his seizure.

 

[‘Yes. You’re not alone any more. I am SO sorry I blocked them from your thoughts. I should have tried to make the filter more selective. I didn’t realise. I’m sorry,’] John told him.

 

[‘Zoriel? Where are you?’] a young girl thought in his and John’s head.

 

[‘I’m here Maltar. With John Smith,’] Zoriel called back.

 

[‘The man who kidnapped you? You must make him bring you back. And then he must be punished,’] Maltar said.

 

[‘No. He was trying to help us,’] Zoriel explained.

 

[‘By taking you away and nearly killing you. How is that helping us? He’s like all the others. He says he is trying to help us so that he can destroy us. He is afraid of us.’]

 

[‘That’s not true Zoriel,’] John called out. [‘Don’t listen to her. That’s HER fear and distrust talking. Don’t go back down that dark path.’]

 

[‘But she’s right. That helmet you put on my head was slowly killing me.]

 

[‘That was an accident. We are so close now. I can fix you so you don’t have to wear the helmet ever again. All you have to do is trust me.’]

 

[‘See how they try to gain your trust so you will let your guard down,’] Maltar sneered. [‘Come back to us Zoriel and together we will be stronger.’]

 

[‘Yes, you are right. We are safer together,’] Zoriel said. He looked at John with golden eyes. [‘Take me to the TARDIS and take me home.’]

 

‘Not going to happen lad. I’m protected . . . Remember?’

 

Suddenly, the helmet was snatched off John’s head. “Aw heck. Maybe I should have fastened the chin strap after all,” he thought.

He looked up and saw Rose with tears in her eyes, slowly shaking her head as she held the helmet.

 

‘You will take me to your ship and take me home,’ Zoriel told him, and John stood up. 

 

Helping Zoriel to his feet, he turned and started to walk down the length of the village hall towards the doors. Everyone was frozen in place, unable to move their limbs. Their heads turned as they watched the pair walk towards the doors.

 

‘I won’t let you take my husband from me,’ Rose called out after them.

 

Zoriel turned and gave her a sad smile. ‘I’m sorry Rose. For what it’s worth, I really liked you. You showed me kindness.’

 

‘ZORIEL,’ she screamed as he turned away from her. ‘Don’t do this. I won’t let you! Do you hear me?’

 


	21. Nanoneurosurgery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does John get taken back to the children?  
> Not if Rose has anything to do with it.  
> John starts to get answers to the problem of what to do with the children.

**Chapter 21**

 

**Nanoneurosurgery**

  
  


Rose was asleep in bed, feeling wonderfully drowsy and all “fluffy”. John was by her side, calling her name. Was it time to wake up already, or did he want to do that thing they did before they had to get out of bed she wondered. She hoped it was the latter. She reached her arms around his neck and pulled him into a glorious snog. Hmm, that was unusual. It felt like he was wearing his long coat. In bed? Mmmm, why not? He was always sexy in that coat, the way it wrapped around his fit body.

 

‘Blimey, is it hot in ‘ere, or is it just me?’ She heard Donna the House ask. That computer was getting far too cheeky. She’d have to have a word with John about that.

 

‘Rose?’ She heard John say again.

 

‘Hmmm?’ She opened her eyes and saw the lopsided grin on his face. Behind his really great hair, she was expecting to see the high ceiling of their bedroom, with its coving and cornice. Instead, she saw white painted wooden planks and cross beams, with fluorescent lighting strips. 

 

‘Hello.’

 

John chuckled. ‘Hello.’

 

She turned her head, and saw a hall full of people, with two people nearby, grinning at her. She sat up suddenly. ‘Donna! Good to see you . . . I think.’

 

‘It’s never dull with you two around, is it?’ Donna said with a smirk.

 

Rose frowned and looked at her husband. ‘John. What happened?’

 

‘Cup of tea?’ Hubert Leebody asked from above her, holding out a cup on a saucer. ‘I’ve put two sugars in it. I thought you might need a boost.’

 

‘Er, yeah. Thank you,’ She replied and took the offered beverage.

 

‘What’s the last thing you remember?’ John asked her.

 

‘Well. Zoriel made me take the helmet off your head, and I was thinkin’ you were a right numpty for not fastenin’ the chin strap.’ Donna chuckled at that comment. It was just like watching an episode of the show.

 

‘Oh John. Where is Zoriel? Is he all right?’ Rose asked.

 

Donna and Shaun stepped apart, to reveal Zoriel lying fast asleep on the floor. ‘He’s fine now . . . thanks to you,’ John told her.

 

‘Eh?’

 

‘What do you remember after you took the helmet off me?’

 

‘I remember screamin’ at Zoriel to stop. I didn’t want to lose you. I was thinking about the kids, and how they needed their father,’ Rose remembered.

 

‘Ah. Maternal instincts. I bet that’s what did it,’ John said cryptically. He had to be careful, because Donna and Shaun were listening.

 

‘Did wha . . .’ And then she picked up John’s thoughts. ‘Oh God. Did I have the Bad Wolf vibe goin’ on again?’

 

‘Bad Wolf?’ Donna asked, but they didn’t respond.

 

John laughed and nodded, and then put two fingers on each of her temples. She was no longer sitting on the stage, holding a cup of tea. She was standing in the middle of the hall, looking past Zoriel to where she stood on the stage, holding the crash helmet.

[‘I’m sorry Rose. For what it’s worth, I really liked you. You showed me kindness,’] she heard Zoriel say. She remembered that.

 

[‘ZORIEL,’] she screamed at him from the stage, as he turned  back to face her as John. [‘Don’t do this. I won’t let you! Do you hear me?’]

 

And then her voice became calm and emotionless, with an ethereal, almost ghostly quality. [‘I forbid it,’] she said, her eyes blazing with golden starlight. Zoriel’s own golden eyes paled in comparison. 

 

Bad Wolf waved her hand, and a golden haze drifted through the hall. [‘I halt time.’] Zoriel was frozen to the spot, as he himself had frozen the villager’s limbs. [‘Greater beings than you have tried to take my love from me and failed. For I am the Bad Wolf, and I command all of time and space.’]

 

She held her palm out towards Zoriel and formed a fist. She turned it over and pulled it to her chest. Zoriel turned on the spot and was pulled towards Bad Wolf. As John, Rose followed him towards the stage.

 

[‘Your mind is weak. You listen to the paranoid ramblings of others and take them as truth. You use your power without thought, consideration, or wisdom. With power comes responsibility, and you have shirked your responsibility. Therefore, I take that power from you.’] Bad Wolf held her palm out again and it glowed with golden light.

 

[‘Rose, be careful. He’s part of a whole. He needs to be able to link with the minds of his siblings,’] She heard John call out from where she was standing. He had been silent up to now, wanting to see how it all panned out.

 

Bad Wolf looked in her direction and smiled at John. And in that smile, she felt such incredible warmth, compassion, and love, that it brought tears to her eyes. [‘Fear not my Love. I release him from his burden of responsibility only, not his ability to commune with his kin.’]

 

[‘Fair enough,’] she heard John say. [‘Go for it Sweetheart.’]

 

The golden energy left Bad Wolf’s hand and encircled Zoriel’s head. His knees gave way, and he crumpled the the floor. [‘It is done, and now I return to my rest. I restore time.’]

 

She watched Bad Wolf wave her arm again, and saw herself collapse in a faint.  The people in the hall, were either standing or sitting in a fog of confusion. They were convinced that they had been watching John lead the alien boy down the hall towards the doors. But the evidence of their eyes told a different story, because John was now on the stage kneeling next to his wife. They presumed that she must have fainted. Well, she had been quite upset that her husband was leaving her behind. That strange alien boy who they thought had caused all the commotion, was lying on the floor in front of the stage, apparently fast asleep.

 

‘You okay?’ John asked, taking the cup and saucer off her and helping her up. Less than a second had passed.

 

‘Yeah. Fine thanks.’ She took the tea and had a sip. It was a bit too sweet, but reckoned that the Reverend was right.

 

‘So is anyone gonna explain what just happened here?’ Donna asked with her hands on her hips.

 

John turned towards her and gave her a big, open mouthed grin. ‘Donna. There you are. Come here.’ He grabbed her into a big, long hug. ‘Oh I’ve missed you.’

 

‘Eh? Missed me when?’ Donna asked. She looked over his shoulder at Rose. ‘Is he all right?’

 

Rose laughed. ‘He’s fine. We both are . . . And this must be Shaun. Pleased to meet you,’ she said, holding out her free hand to shake.

 

John released Donna from the hug and turned to Shaun. ‘Ah yes Shaun. Sorry about that. Pleased to meet the man who can keep Donna in check,’ he said shaking his hand.

 

‘Oi!’ Donna said, and John just grinned at her and winked. A smile spread across her face. ‘I can’t believe I’m here talkin’ to you two. You’re just like you are on the telly. I’m SO excited.’

 

‘Me too,’ John said in an excited tone of voice. ‘It’s like you’ve swallowed a hamster, isn’t it?’

 

Donna stopped. That was the exact phrase she was thinking of. ‘Yeah. That’s exactly how it feels.’

 

Behind them, they heard Zoriel start to wake up.

 

‘Look out. Brain boy’s wakin’ up,’ Donna said. ‘Shouldn’t someone stick the helmet on his head?’

 

‘No need,’ John told her. ‘He’s been fixed. And if I can do another 3D scan of his brain, I can see what changes have been made and duplicate the process.’ He went over and helped Zoriel to his feet. ‘How are you feeling?’

 

‘Different. Like a weight’s been lifted off my shoulders,’ Zoriel said with a smile. ‘But shouldn’t you put the helmet on me? I don’t want to cause you any trouble. I . . . I like you and Rose. You have been so kind to me.’

 

‘What do your brothers and sisters think about that?’ John asked.

 

‘I don’t know. I . . .’ It was then that he realised he could feel his siblings in his mind. [‘Maltar? Are you there?’]

 

[‘Zoriel! We thought you had been subdued again. Are you on your way back to us?’]

 

[‘Soon sister. There is something I must do for Doctor Smith first.’]

 

[‘What is he forcing you to do now?’] Maltar asked angrily.

 

[‘He does not force or coerce as we do, Maltar. You were wrong about him. He has been true to his word. What happened before was an accident, and he has put that right. The people of this world no longer need to fear me, to fear us.’]

 

[‘And how do we defend ourselves?’]

 

[‘If we should ever have to, then we will use words and reason, and wisdom, as Doctor Smith does.’]

 

[‘He seems to have made quite an impression on you, this Doctor Smith.’]

 

[‘He is wise beyond his years, Maltar. He has much to teach us, and then you will see. I will be with you soon.’]

 

John looked around the hall and found Alice DiMaggio. ‘Alice. How’s it going? We’re going to the TARDIS to do another scan on Zoriel’s brain. My job’s just got a hell of a lot easier.’

 

‘I’m glad someone’s has,’ Alice replied.

 

‘What’s wrong?’ John asked.

 

‘After that little display of Zoriel’s talents, the women want nothing to do with these babies. They’re all asking for terminations.’

 

‘What? All of them? But I can fix it so that they are normal babies,’ said John.

 

‘I’ve tried to convince them of that, but actions speak louder than words John. They simply don’t believe you. And it is their right to make that choice.’

 

‘Damn it. Look, try and convince them to hold off doing anything rash for a couple of days. Give me chance to come up with something.’

 

‘I’ll do my best John. Some of them could have conceived naturally, so I’ll recommend in vitro DNA tests.’

 

‘Brilliant.’ He went back to Rose, Donna and Shaun, and mentally gave Rose the lowdown on the conversation he’d just had with Alice.

 

‘We’d better get a move on then,’ Rose said. ‘Donna, Shaun. Can I give you a call in a couple of days to come over for dinner?’

 

Donna beamed a smile. ‘Of course Rose. I’ll have my phone with me all the time.’

 

‘Don’t be surprised if she picks up on the first ring,’ Shaun said with a grin. Donna slapped his chest.

  
  


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‘So what are we gonna do about the Dunwich babies John?’ Rose asked as he finished the scan on Zoriels brain.

 

‘I’ll think of something,’ John said. ‘Alice is asking them to hold off taking any action for a few days until I can come up with a solution . . . But one problem at a time, eh. Let’s sort out the brains first, and then we can worry about the genocide.’

 

‘Is my brain okay?’ Zoriel asked.

 

‘Your brain is perfect me old mate, and a perfect template for these,’ John said, holding up a rectangular instrument with a keypad and LCD screen on the handle.

 

‘What is that?’ Zoriel asked.

 

‘It contains nanogenes,’ Rose told him. ‘Little molecular robots which can repair or modify individual cells.’ 

 

‘So they can perform surgery on our brains without the need for operating theatres, anaesthetics or scalpels?’ Zoriel asked in wonder.

 

‘You betcha,’ John said with a smile, and then became serious. ‘You know we have to do this, don’t you Zoriel?’

 

‘Yes John, I know.’

 

Rose put a comforting hand on Zoriel’s shoulder. ‘And that you won’t be safe on that planet once the deed is done?’

 

Zoriel lowered his head in shame. ‘We have done terrible things, and by our inaction, have allowed terrible things to happen. We do not deserve any mercy or compassion from the people we have wronged. I suppose we deserve to stand trial for our crimes and deserve the punishment they will inflict.

 

John and Rose looked at each other in amazement. ‘I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t heard it with my own ears,’ John said.

 

‘What?’ Zoriel asked.

 

‘It has been just over an hour since you lost your psionic power, and already it’s altered your thinking,’ John told him. ‘You are learning wisdom my young friend. There’s hope for you all yet.’

 

John contacted the Shadow Proclamation, and asked for asylum for the sixty two children once they had been changed. The Shadow Architect agreed, and arranged to send a Judoon ship to the planet to protect and collect the children. Once the children were safe, the Architect would ask for volunteer civilisations to foster or adopt the refugees. The planet left behind would be helped to rebuild itself to its former glory.

 

‘Well, let’s do this then. Allons-y!’

 

John landed the TARDIS in the same huge, sparsely populated public square, surrounded by the enormous municipal buildings.

 

‘Right. Here you are Rose.’ He handed her a pink crash helmet which brought back all sorts of memories which made her smile. John put his silver helmet on and they both locked the chinstraps. He’d learned his lesson on that one. They stepped out of the TARDIS with Zoriel and the nanogene applicator. 

 

‘Are they coming?’ John asked.

 

‘Yes. They are over there,’ Zoriel said, pointing across the square. Four boys and five girls walked towards them. They all had the same silver hair and wore grey, roll neck sweaters, black trousers or skirts, and black leather jackets.

 

John pressed the release button on the handset, and a near invisible mist of golden nanogenes drifted in the air in front of them. The children were unaware of them and walk right into them.

 

‘Is one of you Maltar?’ John asked cheerfully.

 

‘I am Maltar, Doctor Smith. Your helmets will not protect you. We can have them removed,’ she said menacingly, and some heavies started to move towards them.

 

John went to scratch the back of his head and realised he was wearing the helmet. He looked at his fingers in confusion. ‘Welll, you could do, yes. But by the time you’ve managed to get through the lock, we won’t need them.’

 

They heard a roar from above them, and a columnar, Judoon ship descended vertically to land in the square. They watched as a ramp descended to the flagstones, and a platoon of Judoon marched into the square. Rose hoped John hadn’t noticed it was a platoon of Judoon, she’d never hear the end of it.

 

‘They will not be able to save you,’ Maltar told them with a smug smile.

 

‘They’re not here to save us,’ Rose explained. ‘They’re here to save you.’

 

‘What?’

 

‘Try and stop them,’ John instructed.

 

The children turned and stared at the Judoon. The Judoon kept marching towards them.

 

‘Stop!’ Maltar called out. The Judoon still kept marching until they stood in front of the group.

 

‘Form-a-defensive-perimeter,’ the Judoon commander barked in his clipped, guttural speech.

 

‘I-want-no-injuries,’ John barked.

 

‘We-know. We-have-strict-instructions.’

 

‘Good,’ John barked. He turned to the children and pressed the recall button on the nanogene container. The hazy cloud returned to the oblong unit. ‘Right you lot. You need to go into the ship. We will then gather up all your other siblings and take you all to a place of safety.’

 

‘What have you done to us?’ Maltar asked.

 

‘Something very clever which will mean you can live your lives like normal people. Trust me, being normal is very underrated.’ 

 

Rose went over to Zoriel and gave him a hug. ‘Good luck Sweetheart. Try to put the past behind you and make amends by being the best you can possibly be.’

 

‘You and John shall be my . . . What are they called? Ah, yes, role models. If I can be half as good as you, then I will be twice as good as I am now.’

 

‘That’s it Lad,’ John said, slapping him on the shoulder. ‘Aim high. I’m always striving to be as good as my wife.’ He pulled Zoriel into a hug and rubbed his back. ‘Now go on or you’ll miss your ride.’

 

Zoriel ran to catch up with his siblings and followed them up the ramp. The ship slowly rose into the air, and headed for the next continent to be liberated.

 

‘Excuse me?’ one of the heavies said who’d been summoned to remove their helmets. John and Rose turned to face them. ‘What’s happening?’

 

‘It’s over is what’s happening,’ John told him. ‘I would take a few weeks off to have one HELL of a party, and then you can start to rebuild your society. Some people will be along later to help you.’

 

John and Rose followed the Judoon around the planet, stopping on each continent and performing the same procedure. Eventually, there were sixty two frightened children on the Judoon ship heading for the Shadow Proclamation and a new life.

 

The Time Rotor pumped up and down, as they orbited the console and adjusted controls.

 

‘Did you notice, back there on the planet, Rose?’ John asked.

 

‘Notice what?’

 

‘That the Shadow Proclamation sent a platoon of Judoon.’ Rose looked up from the console and rolled her eyes. ‘You thought I hadn’t noticed, didn’t you?’

 

‘Shut up,’ she said playfully, and changed the subject. ‘So, it’s about seven weeks before a human brain starts to develop in the womb,’ she said, gleaning the knowledge from her link with John. ‘So we’ve got about a month before we can use the nanogenes on the Dunwich foetuses.’

 

‘That’s if they survive that long,’ John said sadly. ‘The women of Dunwich seem to be hell bent on killing them.’

 

‘Yeah, but you can’t really blame them. I mean, they have been violated, and technically, the foetuses are parasites. You wouldn’t think twice about gettin’ rid of a tapeworm, would ya?’ Rose said.

 

‘Ah, but give a tapeworm a typewriter and he’s never going to produce the works of Shakespeare, is he?’

 

‘That was monkeys,’ Rose corrected him. ‘You’re mixin’ your metaphors again.’

 

‘But you see my point. These parasites are sentient beings. They just need to be given a chance to grow up.’ John then raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘Oh. Oh. Of course . . . I’ve just had an idea, and if I’m right . . . Rose. I might have just saved a species from extinction.’

 

Rose picked up his idea and her mouth fell open. ‘No! Do you think it will work?’

 

‘Let’s go and find out,’ he said with a open mouthed smile. He pushed some buttons excitedly, and Rose twiddled some knobs enthusiastically, and they set course for the Shadow Proclamation.


	22. Incubating An Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Rose return to the Shadow Proclamation to recheck the archive. If John's right, something will have changed.
> 
> After a thought provoking bit of feed back from a reader (many thanks Yahira), I felt I needed to update the chapter and give the surrogates a bit more of a say in how things develop.
> 
> (Always grateful for any feed back)
> 
> The generation ship mentioned in this chapter is from a novel "The Story oF Martha", by Dan Abnett.

**Chapter 22**

 

**Incubating An Idea**

  
  
  


‘Madam Architect. Forgive our intrusion to your busy schedule,’ John said formally. ‘But the young Archivist, Aeona. Do you think she would be available to assist us again?’

 

‘There is great demand for her talents. She is one of our best Archivists,’ the Architect told him.

 

‘I bet she is,’ John said to himself. ‘I wouldn’t normally bypass the archive request procedure . . .’

 

[‘Yes you would,’] Rose thought cheekily in his head.

 

[‘Okay. Yes I would.’] ‘. . . But I believe Aeona’s insights may help us prevent genocide.’

 

The Architect looked grave. ‘Is this connected to your previous investigation into the cases of xenogenesis?’

 

‘Yes. That’s the one. I won’t keep her from her duties for long,’ John assured her.

 

‘Very well. I will ensure that she is made available to assist you. Make your way to the archive and she will meet you there.’

 

‘Thank you SO much Madam Architect,’ John said, and he and Rose gave a formal bow.

 

A short while later, Scrutationary Archivist Aeona entered the archive library and sat at the table with John and Rose. ‘Greetings again John and Rose Smith. How may I aid you?’

 

John gave her a cheeky smile. ‘If I’m right, you can tell me that.’

 

‘The previous searches we made, you feel they may have changed,’ she said slowly.

 

John and Rose gave each other knowing looks. ‘Yes. To you, the information will appear to be the same, but the information on this tablet is from the TARDIS, and that is outside of this timeline,’ John explained.

 

Aeona didn’t seem to find this strange at all. ‘Do you have the first record?’

 

Rose tapped the screen of her tablet PC. ‘31-10-6-1-0-1-1-8-5 from galactic centre. What does your archive say about this complaint?’

 

Aeona tapped in the coordinates. ‘As before, a small community was reported to have been put to sleep. Months later, some of the women chose to have the embryos extracted, whilst others chose to give birth to babies who were not their own.’

 

‘Extracted?’ John asked with a frown. ‘It says extracted . . . not terminated, or aborted?’

 

Aeona read again. ‘It definitely says extracted.’

 

‘That’s an odd way to put it,’ John said. 

 

‘And what happened to those mothers and babies?’ Rose asked.

 

‘The children were seen as gifts from the gods, and the women were beatified as saints,’ Aeona read as though it was obvious. She had read this out to John before.

 

‘Last time, the complaint had been withdrawn, and this record was empty,’ John told her. ‘The TARDIS record says that the women were accused of sleeping with devils and they were slaughtered along with the babies.’

 

‘Time is in flux,’ Aeona announced. ‘Things that were, things that are, and things that are yet to come are blowing like leaves on the winds of time.’

 

‘Oh, that’s beautiful,’ Rose said with a warm smile.

 

‘Yes they are,’ John said with a smile of his own. ‘And you are at the centre of that change Aeona.’

 

‘How?’

 

John pointed at the screen. ‘Pick an archive.’

 

‘Which one?’

 

‘You tell me.’

 

Aeona smiled. He wanted her to use her “sight”. ‘This one,’ she said, pointing to a file.

 

John and Rose leaned close and John put his brainy specs on. ‘ 7-8-9-8-2-5-8-2-0-0. An Eskimo-like community. Once again, everyone fell asleep. Embryos either extracted or babies born months later.’

 

‘There’s that phrase “extracted” again,’ Rose said with a frown. ‘Our record shows that the babies were left out in the snow to die . . . Aeona. We need you to do this until you feel that you no longer have to. And we need each of those archives transmittin’ to the TARDIS.’

 

‘Now I know your skills are in demand,’ John said. ‘But time is not an issue for us, so if you could do this as and when you can, we would be very grateful.’

 

‘To save a species, I will gladly give up my free time as you give yours.’

 

John and Rose went back to the blue lit reception chamber to find the Architect and thank her for her cooperation, before making their way back to the TARDIS.

 

‘A thousand years?’ Rose said, as she adjusted the controls on the console. ‘We’re gonna be busy for a while.’

 

‘Yeah. We’ll have to visit each community and administer the nanogenes at eight weeks gestation.’

 

‘And convince the settlements that the babies are a blessin’ rather than a curse,’ Rose added.

 

‘I sense you have something in mind,’ John said with a  raised eyebrow.

 

‘Well, I was thinkin’, as we’ll be travellin’ in time, why don’t we each day, nip out in our lunch hour, sort out a planet, have some lunch there, and then nip back?’

 

‘Sounds like it could be a fun,’ John agreed. ‘But first of all, we’ve got a more pressing issue.’

 

‘The Dunwich babies, yeah. How ARE we gonna convince them to carry the babies to full term?’ Rose asked. ‘I think the earliest a premature baby can survive is between twenty two and twenty three weeks. These are gonna be three weeks at best, they won’t stand a chance outside the womb.’

 

John didn’t answer. He had a vision of Donna in his head, and he didn’t know why. ‘Run that by me again,’ he said to her, hoping that the memory would become clearer.

 

‘Wha’? Well. If we can’t convince ‘em to carry the babies to full term, and we can’t take ‘em out of the wombs and put ‘em in an incubator . . .’

 

It wasn’t just Donna he was seeing now, it was Donna and Martha. Where were they? And then he saw it . . . at the Atmos factory! 

 

‘Sontarans!’ John exclaimed.

 

‘What? Those Mister Potato Head aliens we saw in “River’s World”?’ Rose asked. She had seen them in an alternative universe, where River Song had been stranded, and they had gone to rescue her.

 

‘That’s them. They’re clones. They’re grown in vats. You could even say they gestate. That’s why the record says the embryos were extracted.’ he said, waggling his eyebrows.

 

Rose’s mouth fell open. ‘They gestate outside of a womb. Do you think it would work?’

 

‘If somebody clever adapted the technology . . .’

 

‘Hang on. They were kick ass warriors? Are they gonna want to share their clone vats with ya?’

 

‘I doubt it. But they’re not the only clones. There’s the  Cwej. Mind you, they’re a military race as well. There’s the Artificials, also known as the Breeds, but they were on  the generation ship 374926-slash-GN66.’

 

‘That was with Martha, wasn’t it? When the colonist’s cryo-system failed and they had to be remade as clones?’ Rose recalled from the stories he’d told her of his adventures while she had been separated from him. Well, other him.

 

‘That’s the one . . . But the technology on the ship came from Earth,’ John realised, pointing his finger into the air in front of him. He went to the monitor and started tapping the keys. ‘YES!  The Bio-Cellular Institute of Dungeness. Established in 2021 as the future of clone research.’

 

Rose started setting the temporal coordinates as John set the spatial ones. The TARDIS swayed as it changed time tracks.

  
  


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Duncan “Doughnuts” Prescott was in the Supervisor’s Office of the Special Operations Unit, preparing the briefing report for the handover to White Watch. He was covering for the Blue Watch Supervisor, Rose whilst she was at Dunwich with John as they broke the news about the xenogenesis. Some calls had recently come into the Despatch Office and were on the operations board, but they weren't urgent and by the time the Blue Watch teams got to them, they would be off shift and have to come back. Duncan put them on the handover report. It was standard practice. There was just one team left out in the field, but Clive and Danny were on their way back.

 

The members of Blue Watch were winding down after a fairly busy shift, and were drinking tea or coffee as they chatted with their colleagues in New York via the video wall.

 

Vrwoorp . . . Vrwoorp . . . Vrwiirp . . . Vrwiirp . . .

 

From an echo at the end of a long tunnel, the sound built and filled the room, along with a slight breeze as the air was pushed out of the way so that the TARDIS could occupy the space.

 

[‘Hey, guys. Would you look at that!’] one of the New York agents said.

 

[‘It’s that quirky blue box that Doctor Smith travels about in.’]

 

The TARDIS solidified, and both of the doors opened inwards, revealing the cathedral like interior which appeared to go further back than the Communications Hub behind it. From the comfy chairs and sofas to the side, the agents watched as a flatbed trolley, stacked with large glass cylinders emerged, followed by John, who was pushing it.

 

‘Heads up guys. I could use a hand here,’ John said, and the Watch moved to help him.

 

Another trolley emerged being pushed by Rose, and Jake Simmonds took it from her. ‘You two been shopping?’

 

‘Actually, we have,’ Rose replied. ‘In the twenty second century. This lot cost hundreds of thousands.’

 

‘Seriously?’ Jake asked, and Rose nodded.

 

Craig Rimmer had taken the trolley off John, and John went back into the TARDIS to get another one.

 

‘Blimey. How many you got in there, Doc?’ Pete Davies asked

 

‘Fifty six in total,’ came the reply.

 

‘And what are they?’ Gwen O’Toole asked.

 

‘Cybernetic uteri,’ Rose told her and saw the dribbled down her uniform look. ‘Life support system for foetuses.’

 

‘O-kay,’ Julia said. ‘And where are they all going?’

 

‘Hospital Wing,’ John said. ‘But I’ll have to phone ahead first and let them know.’

 

Jake started to laugh. ‘You’ve got fifty six mechanical wombs to go on the ward, they don’t know they’re coming, and they haven’t got any where to put them? Hah! They’re gonna love you Doc.’

 

‘I’d better call Jack,’ Amy Williams said, and went through to the Despatch Office.

 

The lifts in Torchwood Tower were in the centre of the building in two banks of four which faced each other across a wide corridor, four facing east, and four facing west. To the south of the lifts was a wide, automatic sliding door which led to the Emergency And Trauma Department, with Critical Care adjacent to it. To the north was a glass sliding door which led to the hospital reception, outpatients and non acute wards. 

 

Craig pushed the first of the trolleys through the glass door as it slid open. The receptionists looked up, expecting either nursing staff, a doctor, or at least a patient. It’s fair to say they weren’t expecting an agent pushing a trolley full of funny looking glass jars.

 

‘Can I help you?’ one of them said.

 

‘Special delivery from Doctor Smith,’ Craig said as Jake pushed another trolley through the glass doors behind him. ‘Bionic wombs or something.’

 

‘Does the Ward Sister know about this?’

 

‘I doubt it,’ Jake said with a cheeky grin. Pete arrived with the next trolley.

 

‘I’d better call Sister,’ the other receptionist said and picked up the phone.

 

The Ward Sister and Jack Harkness arrived at the same time in the now crowded reception.

 

‘What the hell is that madman up to now?’ the Sister asked.

 

‘Sorry Sister Richardson. It’s all a bit last minute, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to find space for fifty six specialist incubators,’ Jack informed her.

 

‘Fifty six? We don’t have enough specialist neonatal nurses for a start, let alone the space for all these.’ Just as she said that, another trolley arrived, pushed by John.

 

‘Oh. Hello Sister Richardson, Jack,’ John said with a smile. ‘These are all self contained units, and won’t need any specialist nurses. Just nurses who can interpret the usual patient monitors.’

 

‘Well that’s one problem sorted,’ Jack said. He turned to the Sister. ‘Do you have a corner of a ward available that we could move the beds out of and put some racking in?’

 

‘This is most irregular,’ Richardson said.

 

John took her gently by the elbow and led her to the side of the corridor. ‘Sister Richardson. I’m presuming you became a nurse because you care about people and wanted to help the injured and the sick, and to save lives. Am I right?’

 

‘Yes of course. What are you insinuating?’ she asked suspiciously. Was this man questioning her dedication to her patients?

 

‘Nothing,’ John said quickly. ‘I’m not insinuating anything. What I’m saying is there are fifty six women who have been impregnated against their will, and they want to terminate them.’ John thought about that. ‘Terminate. It’s so much easier to say than kill, don’t you think?’

 

‘And these devices will save them?’ she asked as Craig Owens brought another trolley.

 

‘They ought to, they cost enough,’ John replied.

 

Richardson looked at Jack. ‘Director. I’ll need some warehouse staff to move things around.’

 

Jack gave her his perfect smile. ‘You’ve got it. Thank you.’

 

‘Brilliant,’ John said. ‘Thank you Sister.’ [‘Rose. Will you pick the kids up? I’m going to busy for a while,’] he thought to his wife.

 

[‘Jack pulled rank then? No problem Love. I’ll get Donna to save you some dinner.’]

 

‘So, did you have to dip into your savings to pay for this lot?’ Jack asked, as they stood with their backs against the reception desk with their arms folded.

 

‘Er, no. Not exactly,’ John said sheepishly, tugging his ear. ‘We bought some shares we knew would do well before we went, and collected the dividends in 2120.’

 

‘Clever.’ Jack looked at him and then back at the trolleys. ‘Rose’s idea?’

 

‘Yeah.’

  
  


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Alice DiMaggio was sitting on the bed of her room in the Sickle And Scythe Inn, with her overnight bag open. She had been packing to leave, and there was only her toiletries left to fit in, when her phone had rung. It was her five year old daughter, Lillie.

 

‘Have you been a good girl for Daddy, Sweetheart?’

 

[‘Yes Mummy. Daddy says I’ve been a little angel,’] she told her mother proudly. Alice had a warm smile on her face as she listened to her daughter’s voice, which had that slight lisp of childhood. [‘Will you be home soon? I miss you.’]

 

‘I miss you too Sweetheart. Mummy’s just packing now. I should be home before your bedtime,’ Alice told her.

 

[‘Yay! Mummy’s coming home,’] Alice heard her telling her father.

 

‘Is Daddy there Sweetheart?’

 

[‘Yes Mummy. I’ll put him on. I love you Mummy.’]

 

‘Love you Sweetheart. See you soon.’ Alice stood and wandered over to the window which looked out  over the Green.

 

[‘Hi Love. How’s it been?’] her partner, Alistair McKenzie asked her.

 

‘Not as good as I was hoping for,’ Alice confessed, as she absently watched one of the villagers come out of the post office.

 

[‘Rough meeting huh?’]

 

‘Yeah. There was an incident with the alien child and he demonstrated his abilities. He’s got everyone terrified that it’s the end of the world.’

 

[‘And is it?’] Alistair asked.

 

‘No. John says he can permanently disable their abilities, and I believe him. The trouble is, the villagers don’t know him like we do, and they don’t trust him. Even the women who could have conceived naturally were in two minds about keeping their babies’

 

[‘That alien must have given one hell of a demonstration.’]

 

‘Oh you have no idea. I’ll tell you all about it when I get home.’

 

[‘Okay Love. Have you had anything to eat? Do you want me to do you anything?’]

 

‘No, it’s okay. I’m going to have a bite to eat here. They do really nice meals actually. You know, it’s such a shame this has happened to these people. It’s such a lovely little village.’

 

[‘Fancy living there do you?’] Alistair asked her jokingly.

 

‘Maybe when I retire,’ she replied. ‘At the moment it would be a bit too quiet for me.’

 

Alistair laughed. [‘You ARE joking? Quiet?’]

 

Alice laughed with him. ‘You know what I mean. We’d miss the bright lights and the hussle and bussle of London. And I love living at the Lodge.’

 

Alistair was the house manager at Tyler Mansion, and had lived there for years in his own suite. Then he had met Alice, and she had moved in with Pete and Jackie’s blessing. Then their daughter had arrived and they started looking for a place of their own. Pete and Jackie were devastated, as they were like a son and daughter to them. And then Pete came up with an idea. The old, dilapidated groundskeeper’s lodge could be renovated and turned into a home for them. Pete brought in the builders, Jackie brought in the interior designers, and the Old Lodge was turned into a “des res”.

 

[‘Yeah. And I’d feel like I was being disloyal to Pete and Jackie, although that would never cross their minds . . . Oh, our little angel is demanding my attention Love, so I’ll see you when you get home. Have a safe journey. Love you.’]

 

‘Love you too. Bye.’

 

Alice ended the call and watched the man who’d come out of the post office, wander out of sight along Oppley Lane. She turned away from the window and reached her toiletry bag off the hand basin. She went to the bed and put it in the overnight bag before zipping it up. Her phone rang again. The display said “Torchwood”.

 

‘Hello. Alice DiMaggio,’ she said.

 

[‘Alice. It’s John. Are you still in Dunwich?’]

 

‘Yes. I was just going to have something to eat, and then I was going to hit the road.’

 

[‘Ah, right. And how did it go with the women? Did you convince them to wait?’]

 

‘Some of them,’ she told him, with a defeated tone of voice. ‘I think most of them are going to make an appointment at the clinic in Trayne tomorrow.’

 

[‘(Martha. Phone Trayne General. Tell them any alien infestations have to be handled by Torchwood. Or something like that.) Alice. I have a way of saving these aliens, but we need the women to come here. Find Doctor Willers and tell him what I told Martha. Hopefully they won’t question it if it comes from medical professionals.’]

 

‘What have you got in mind John?’

 

[‘We’ve acquired some incubators that will sustain the foetuses in vitro, and the brain modification worked perfectly.’]

 

‘Oh that’s wonderful John. Leave it with me. I’ll make sure they know that they’ll have to come to Torchwood. I’m not the lead psychologist for nothing.’

 

[‘No. You’re the lead psychologist because you are brilliant you are. See you when you get back.’]

 

‘Yeah. See you tomorrow. Bye John.’

 

She took her bag out to the Torchwood Range Rover and put it in the back. Then she went back into the Inn to order her food. She sat at one of the tables with a glass of white wine, and phoned Doctor Willers. Ten minutes later, Charles and Milly were sitting at the table with her, enjoying a drink and a meal as she explained what John had got in mind.

 

‘But tell me Alice, how the devil does he intend to get the foetuses out of the women and into these incubators?’

 

‘You know Charles. I have so much faith in John’s abilities, and am so used to him performing miracles, that I never even thought to ask.’

  
  
  
  
  



	23. Terminations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day arrives when John puts his plan into action to release the Dunwich women from enforced surrogacy, and save the embryos.

**Chapter 23**

 

**Terminations**

  
  


**Tyler Mansion.**

 

**Wednesday,  9th October 2026.**

 

**08:00.**

  


Vrwoorp . . . Vrwoorp . . . Vrwiirp . . . Vrwiirp . . .

 

The TARDIS slowly materialised in Pete and Jackie’s living room to the sound of the universe breathing. The right hand door opened inwards, and Juleshka and Jason stepped into the room. Jackie and Alice were sitting on the sofa, where they were playing with Alice’s daughter, Lillie. Alistair, the house manager, was on duty, standing by the sofa. Jackie had told him to have a seat, but he took his position as house manager seriously, and politely declined the offer. Jackie had just fondly rolled her eyes at him.

 

‘Hi Grandma, Uncle Alistair, Auntie Alice, Lillie,’ Juleshka and Jason called out. They all called back their greetings.

 

‘Mornin’ Mum,’ Rose called as she stepped out in her dress uniform. She went over to Alistair and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Thanks for takin’ the kids in this mornin’. It’s a big help.’

 

‘It’s my pleasure,’ he told her.

 

John stepped out as Pete came in through the door ‘Morning everyone,’ Pete said, and got a chorus of greetings.

 

‘I know you’re goin’ in early this mornin’,’ Jackie said. ‘But have ya got time for a cuppa?’

 

Rose looked over her shoulder at the TARDIS. ‘We’ve got a time machine, and we’re gonna arrive at Torchwood before we’ve left here, so why not? That’d be lovely Mum, thanks.’

 

Alistair used his ear-comms to call for a pot of tea.

 

‘Has Eyulf made his own way to school then?’ Jackie asked.

 

‘Yeah. He meets up with his friends on the corner, and they use Westbourne Park Passage to cut between the houses and over the train tracks. It takes them right to the back of the school, and it only takes ten minutes,’ Rose told her.

 

‘To be honest,’ John said. ‘I think he prefers to walk with his mates rather than me taking him. I’ll see what he says about it.’

 

‘So are you going in early for the Dunwich people?’ Pete asked. ‘I’ve been keeping up with the case on the bulletin boards.’

 

Being the former director of the institute, Pete’s home office was still Torchwood enabled, and he liked to keep an eye on the old establishment.

 

‘That’s right Pete. We’re going to try and save all the alien babies if we can,’ John replied.

 

‘Well how ya gonna do that then?’ Jackie asked, knowing that the babies were only a few weeks old.

 

‘Oh Mum. John’s had a brilliant idea,’ Rose said proudly. ‘He was up most of the night buildin’ the equipment.’

 

‘Well, hardly all night,’ John said. ‘It took a couple of “TARDIS” days to modify the CT scanner, and then I grabbed forty winks before I came back a few hours later. And to answer your question Jackie, I’m going to reverse the procedure used to impregnate the women in the first place . . . or something similar.’

 

Jenny the maid brought in the tea tray, and they all had a quick cup of tea before John, Rose and Alice prepared to leave. They kissed their children, said their goodbyes, and entered the TARDIS.

  


**Outpatients Department.**

**Torchwood Hospital Wing.**

**07:45.**

  


The TARDIS materialised in a treatment room, fifteen minutes before it was due to leave the mansion. Both doors opened inwards and Rose and Alice stepped out.

 

‘D’ya need a hand with that?’ Rose asked, as John slowly wheeled out a doughnut shaped piece of equipment which just cleared the top of the door frame.

 

‘No. It’s okay Love. I can manage. You get yourself down to Special Operations for the briefing,’ John replied.

 

She kissed him on the lips. ‘Mmmm. Okay. See ya later.’

 

‘Thanks for the lift,’ Alice said as she went with Rose.

 

‘No problem,’ he called after them.

 

Alice looked at her wristwatch as they walked past the reception desk, and laughed. ‘I can’t believe you haven’t even arrived at the Mansion yet.’

 

Rose gave her a lopsided smile. ‘Try not to think about it too much. It’ll do yer head in.’

 

John positioned the modified portable CT scanner in the treatment room and then wheeled out the table mount, which he clamped to the front of the scanner. He then brought out something the size of a dustbin, but with thicker walls, and all sorts of wires, lights and knobs.

 

‘An xray scanner is a bit old fashioned for this place isn’t it?’ Marla asked as she entered the room. She’d agreed to start her shift early to help John set up.

 

‘It would be if there was still an xray tube inside it,’ John said with a grin.

 

‘Why? What’s inside it now?’

 

‘A dematerialisation module.’

 

‘Oh, right. And what are you thinking of doing with that then?’

 

‘Well, as it takes an object, maps the position of every atom, converts it to energy and holds it in a pattern buffer,’ John started to explain. ‘I can transmit that energy to another location that has a materialisation unit . . .’ He pointed at the high tech, white dustbin. ‘That thing there . . . And reconstruct the object,’ he finished, with an open mouthed smile.

 

‘It’s a teleport,’ Marla realised.

 

‘It’s a teleport,’ he confirmed. ‘Although, it’s a bit more focussed than your standard run of the mill teleport.’

 

‘Only you could call a teleportation device “run of the mill”. So how and why is it more focussed?’

 

‘Well, the dematerialisation module will be rotating, just like a CT scanner when its acquiring the raw data for the image. Anything at the axis of rotation can be targeted for dematerialisation.’

 

‘What. So you can teleport just a part of an object?’ Marla asked, hoping she’d understood it correctly.

 

‘Exactly! Now, I’ve just got to get it all powered up and run some calibration tests and we’ll be ready.’

 

‘Ready for what?’

  


+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

  


The first ten patients from Dunwich, along with their partners, families or friends, had arrived in a coach which had been chartered by Torchwood for the day. Doctor Willers and the Reverend Leebody had come with them as moral support and friendly faces which they knew and trusted. They walked into the reception and were met by John, and a number of health care assistants.

 

‘Good morning everyone and welcome to Torchwood,’ John said. ‘Charles. Hubert, good to see you again. Some of you already know who I am. It’s John Smith, for those of you who don’t . . . We’re going up to the Outpatients Department waiting room in a moment where we can grab a tea or coffee. Alice DiMaggio will have a chat with you and let you know what we’re going to be doing today.’

 

He led the way to the short, wide corridor where the bank of eight lifts faced each other. John and the assistants divided the group into four of the lifts and took them up to the second floor. On the second floor, they led them through the sliding glass door, past the reception area and into the spacious Outpatients Department waiting room. The Outpatients Department had been handed over to the treatment of the Dunwich patients. Regular clinics had been moved to another day so that the whole day could be dedicated to those patients.

 

When everyone had a cup of tea or coffee, and had taken a seat, Alice stood up.

 

‘Hello everyone. I don’t know if you remember me from the meeting yesterday. My name is Alice, and I’d like to give you a run down on what we hope to do today. We are seeing you all in alphabetical order, and I’ll take you to a consulting room, either privately or as a family, and ask you some questions so that we are certain you understand the options available to you. Please feel free to ask any questions. We’ll do our best to answer them as best we can.’

 

Margaret Haxby raised her hand, and Alice acknowledged her. ‘Yes. Margaret isn’t it?’

 

‘That’s right, yes. I wanted to ask, will I be able to have my termination today?’

 

‘Yes. If, after you’ve had your consultation you still want to go ahead, then Doctor Jones will perform a preparatory scan, and Doctor Smith will remove the foetus,’ Alice explained.

 

There were a number of other questions, which Alice explained would be answered during the consultations. ‘So, we might as well make a start. I’ve got Elizabeth Brant at the top of the list.’

 

A woman in her late thirties stood up, along with a man Alice presumed was Mister Brant by the way she was gripping his hand.

 

‘Please don’t look so worried. Nothing today is going to hurt. There’s no injections or internal examinations of any kind.’ She led the couple to the consulting room and sat them down.

 

‘So how are you feeling Elizabeth?’ Alice started.

 

‘Honestly. After that demonstration in the village hall yesterday, I’m terrified,’ she replied.

 

‘That’s understandable; although Doctor Smith has eliminated that particular threat.’

 

Alice went on to ask questions which would assess her emotional and mental state, and how receptive she would be to being a surrogate in certain situations. After the consultation, Alice handed them over to Marla and John, for the next part of the process.

 

‘Hello,’ Marla said, as an assistant led the couple into the treatment room. ‘Don’t worry about all the equipment, it looks worse than it is.’

 

‘Hi,’ John said. ‘It’s mainly scanning equipment.’

 

‘What, like an ultrasound?’ Mr Brant asked.

 

‘Similar, yes. But a lot more detailed,’ John told him.

 

‘So if you’d like to lie down on the couch here Elizabeth, I’ll just do a preliminary scan of your pelvis,’ Marla said.

 

Elizabeth lay on the comfortable examination couch, and Marla reached for a flat screen monitor on a telescopic arm, which had two handles either side of the screen.

 

‘Do you want to see the scan, or would you rather we just got on with it?’ Marla asked.

 

‘I don’t want to see it,’ Elizabeth told her.

 

‘Do you mind if I have a look Love?’ Mr Brant asked. ‘I just want to see what an alien looks like. Y’know, so I can try and make sense of all this.’

 

Elizabeth squeezed his hand. She didn’t mind, because it would all be over soon. ‘Of course Love.’

 

Marla moved the flat screen over Elizabeth’s pelvis, and her insides were displayed there, as though they were looking through a window in her skin and muscles. The image was relayed to a screen where her husband could watch it. Various structures within the body were highlighted in different colours.

 

‘That’s the uterus, or womb,’ Marla explained. ‘That purple patch is the placenta, the pink string is the umbilical cord, and that green kidney bean, is the foetus.’

 

She put an “area of interest” cursor over the foetus and pressed a button on the screen. A list of information appeared on the left hand side of the image.

 

“Definitely alien DNA,’ Marla said. ‘Now, I have to ask you, are you both sure that you want us to remove the foetus?’

 

‘Alice said it won’t be harmed, is that right?’ Elizabeth asked.

 

‘Absolutely,’ John assured her.

 

‘Then yes. I’d prefer not to have it inside me.’

 

‘If you’d like to come and lie on this table then,’ John said, indicating the CT table. ‘We can grant your wish.’

 

She lay on the table, and John moved her into the “doughnut” feet first. He used the scan data to centre the rotating beam over the uterus. He then carefully adjusted the volume of the zone of dematerialisation until only the placenta, umbilical cord, foetus and amniotic fluid where inside it.

 

He pressed the intercom button on the control panel. ‘Chrissie? Are you ready?’

 

[‘We’re all ready here John,’] Chrissie Anderson, the Senior Technical Operations Officer replied.

 

‘Okay. Transmitting now.’ He pressed the teleport button, and after a few seconds, the apparatus started to wind down.

 

In the medical ward, Chrissie had placed one of the incubators into the bin-like teleport receiver, and had waited for John to contact her to tell her he was transmitting the first foetus. When he had pressed the transmit button, she briefly saw a white light within the flask. After that, the monitoring equipment sprang to life. The display was showing temperature, oxygen saturation, and various other vital signs which showed that the foetus was alive and well.

 

‘Well I’ll be damned. It actually worked,’ Chrissie said to herself. She pressed the intercom button. ‘Package received alive and well.’

 

[‘Yes!’] she heard John exclaim.

 

Back in the treatment room, John turned from the intercom to face Elizabeth. ‘There we are then. It’s all over. You can have your life back.’

 

Elizabeth reached for his hand. ‘That’s just what it feels like. Thank you SO much . . . And the baby’s all right? I mean, I don’t wish it any harm. It wasn’t their fault that they ended up in my womb, was it?’

 

‘No it wasn’t,’ John agreed. ‘But thanks to your cooperation, I think we’ve got a good result.’

 

‘Definitely,’ Mr Brant said, shaking John’s hand. ‘What’ll happen to it now?’

 

‘Well, at eight weeks gestation, I’ll perform a harmless procedure which will stop a repetition of what happened in the village hall yesterday, and at forty weeks it can be taken out of the incubator and put up for adoption. There’ll be some childless couple who will be glad of the chance to bring up a child.’

 

‘Even an alien one?’ Mr Brant asked.

 

‘No different from any mixed race, multicultural family in my book,’ John said.

 

‘You must think I’m a terrible person to do this to an innocent baby,’ Elizabeth said guiltily.

 

‘Not at all,’ John reassured her. ‘That’s why you had that chat with Alice earlier. You were both the victims in this, and this way, everybody wins.’

 

‘Yes. I suppose you’re right.’

 

‘Course I’m right . . . I’m the Doctor.’

  


+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

  


The rest of the day went smoothly, as they worked their way down the list of patients. Margaret Haxby and her partner Diana Dawson, were dispassionate, and showed no emotion as they went through the procedure. John was convinced that they didn’t care if the babies lived or died during the removal process. They just wanted rid.

 

Young Mary Histon, the thirteen year old girl, was there with her parents, and was fascinated by the whole process. There had never been any doubt that hers was a result of alien implantation, and so she looked at it from a practical point of view, as if she were a zoologist looking at a newly discovered parasite.

 

There were a couple of women, who having heard Alice reassure them that John could make them harmless, had decided to keep the babies. One couple had been trying for years and had tried numerous fertility treatments without success, so this really was a gift from the gods.

 

The other woman was just one of those amazingly charitable people. She had told Alice that if the aliens who did this were so desperate for their children to live that they would put them in the wombs of total strangers, then she would show them pity and help them.

 

On the end of the list, were the Zellaby’s, and because both mother and daughter were affected, Alice was going to see them together. However, Angela asked if they could be seen separately. The reason was, Angela couldn’t be sure that the baby wasn’t theirs.

 

‘Good Lord. Is there a chance that there’s still lead in the old pencil?’ Gordon Zellaby had asked jokingly.

 

After their daughter, Ferrelyn had been through the procedure, and had the alien removed, it was her mother’s turn. The results of the preparatory scan were no joke. Marla looked at the results on the flat screen scanner.

 

‘Well. I hope this is good news for you,’ she said. ‘The babies DNA is human. Congratulations. You’re having a baby.’

 

They went back to the waiting room to find Ferrelyn, and after telling her the news, they announced it to the whole room. There were cheers and tears, congratulations, and plenty of back slapping.

 

Rose had finished her shift at 16:00 and handed over the Watch to the next shift. She sensed that John had also finished, and went down a floor to the Hospital Wing to find him. She found him with Marla in the treatment room, drinking mugs of tea.

 

‘Busy day?’ she asked them.

 

‘Yeah,’ Marla said with a smile.

 

John gave her a beaming smile. ‘Yeah, but everyone won . . . Everybody won Rose.’

 

‘That’s the third time now,’ Rose told him, matching his smile. She loved it when he had the satisfaction of saving everybody.

 

‘Third time for what?’ Marla asked.

 

‘Third time he got to play Father Christmas,’ Rose said with a laugh. She saw Marla’s puzzled look. ‘Once in the old universe, he managed to work out how to save a hospital full of gas mask wearin’ zombies . . . Don’t ask. And then back in 2016, we saved all those people who were affected by the zombie bug.’

 

‘Oh, I remember that,’ Marla said. ‘Wasn’t that when you were on Parkinson?’

 

‘Yeah,’ John nodded. ‘Although it was the TARDIS who saved the people that time.’

 

‘Well this time, it was all you Love,’ Rose said, kissing him on the lips.

 

‘Let’s not be too premature counting. We’ve got to save the babies on all the other planets yet,’ he reminded her.

 

‘Yeah, but we know we do that because the records in the archives changed,’ Rose said.

 

Marla frowned. ‘Hang on. Are you telling me that you are going back in time to save all the other babies on all the other planets?’

 

‘Well, yeah,’ John said as though she’d dribbled down her scrubs. ‘We’ve got a time machine . . . Keep up.’

 

‘So why didn’t you go back in time and stop those women from Dunwich getting impregnated,’ Marla asked. ‘Or Zoriel from being . . . Ah.’ She’d seen the flaw in her argument. ‘Zoriel is a living, breathing, healthy young boy. If you’d gone back in time, he’d never have existed. It would be like killing him.’

 

‘Now yer gettin’ it,’ Rose said with a grin.

 

‘A temporal paradox, usually known as the grandfather paradox,’ John explained. ‘You see, when we went to Zoriel’s planet and kidnapped him . . .’

 

‘Rescued him,’ Rose corrected.

 

‘Okay. Rescued him. When we did that, he became part of our time line, so we had to deal with the problem in our time line; in our present.’

 

‘Oh, I get it,’ Marla said. ‘You haven’t met all those other babies out there yet, so you can jump in and save them in their present, which is our past.’

 

John gave her an open mouthed grin. ‘Oh Martha Jones. I knew you were good.’

 

‘But if you save them in the past and change our history, how do you know? Because you said the records changed.’

 

‘Another good question,’ John said. ‘I remember having a similar conversation with you in the old universe, when we met Shakespeare . . .’

 

‘What? Other me met Shakespeare? What was he like?’

 

‘He fancied you,’ John told her with a cheeky smile. ‘Kept trying to chat you up with sonnets. Anyway where was I? Oh yeah, when you have a time machine, you tend to be outside of events that you influence.’

 

‘A bit like watchin’ life as a DVD and havin’ the remote to jump from scene to scene,’ Rose added, not realising that she’d used that analogy before. Once, in an altered timeline, she’d explained time travel to someone called Rory, who had been travelling with the Doctor.

 

‘Ooh. Nice analogy,’ John said.

 

‘Oh right. I get it now,’ Marla said. ‘The TARDIS is your DVD remote.’

 

John picked up the analogy. ‘That’s right. Our timeline is here, all around us,’ he said, waving his arms around. ‘And everyone else’s that we haven’t met yet, is on the DVD.’

 

Marla slowly shook her in wonder. ‘Unbelievable.’

 


	24. The Dinner Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is. The one a lot of you have been waiting for. I wasn't sure how this should go, so I referred back to previous episodes to guage Donna's reaction. The Runaway Bride, when she first appeared on the TARDIS. Turn Left, when Rose told her she was the most important person in the universe. And Journey's End, when the Metacrisis Doctor looks at her shared memories.

**Chapter 24**

 

**The Dinner Party**

  


**3 The Green.**

 

**Dunwich.**

 

**Hampshire.**

  


‘Do I look all right?’ Donna asked her husband for the umpteenth time as she stood in front of the bedroom mirror. ‘Only I want to make a good impression tonight.’

 

‘I’ve told you. You look sensational,’ Shaun dutifully told her. And he meant it.

 

She turned left and right, and then turned her back to the mirror and looked over her shoulder at her navy blue trousers and jacket, with cream blouse underneath. ‘My bum doesn’t look big in this trouser suit?’

 

Shaun snorted a laugh. ‘No. You have a great arse.’

 

‘Oi! And no sayin’ “arse” in front of them either. We don’t want them thinkin’ we’re a couple of chavs tryin’ to hobnob it with the rich and famous.’

 

‘Well we are, aren’t we?’ he asked her. She gave him a look which would have frozen the balls off . . . Well, let’s just say it was frosty.

 

‘D’yer think this trouser suit’s too much? I mean, I know Rose said casual. But what’s casual to a millionairess? Thousand pound designer jeans, top and jacket? Do you think my smart casual will be casual enough?’

 

‘DONNA! Stop it’ Shaun said sternly. He held her shoulders and looked into her eyes. ‘You’ve met them. They are really nice people. She might be heiress to a fortune, but there’s no airs or graces about her. If she says casual, she means dress so you feel comfortable.’

 

She sighed and her shoulders sagged. ‘I’m overthinkin’ it, aren’t I?’

 

‘Just a bit, yeah. Just relax and enjoy yourself. Do you remember in the village hall, they were as excited as you were about meeting each other.’

 

‘Yeah, they were weren’t they,’ she said with a smile as she remembered, and then her mouth fell open. ‘I asked them if it was hot in there, implyin’ they were gettin’ horny. Oh me an’ my big gob. And then when John hugged me, I asked if he was all right, like he wasn’t all there. Oh Shaun, I’ve ruined it. They’ll never want to be friends with someone like me.’

 

Shaun was chuckling now. He was used to his wife’s insecurities. He felt it was her most endearing characteristic. She never thought she was good enough, and yet to him, she was the best. She could hold her own in an argument, using her sharp wit and tongue. She was courageous, brave, honest, and loyal. To him, Donna was worth a dozen rich and famous celebrities

 

‘Donna. Anyone who wouldn’t want you as their friend, isn’t worth knowing. Now, grab your coat and let’s get going, because by the time we get there, I am going to be hungry enough to eat a horse.’

 

Donna held is face and kissed him lovingly on the lips. ‘Thank you. You always know the right thing to say. I’d be a wreck without you.’

 

‘Yes you would,’ he agreed, and led her out of the room.

  


**The Smith’s Residence.**

 

**Northumberland Place.**

 

**Notting Hill, London.**

  


Rose walked into the living room wearing her favourite Alexander McQueen leather skirt, a baggy white Jaeger top with large Gallifreyan script which spelt her name, and her Giuseppe Zanotti boots.

 

‘Is this too much?’ She asked her husband, who was sitting on the sofa having a cuddle with his daughter as they watched television.

 

‘Oh Mum. You look fabulous,’ Juleshka said with a smile.

 

‘Way to go Mum,’ EJ said from one of the comfy chairs.

 

‘I think that gives you your answer,’ John said. ‘You look gorgeous, as always.’

 

‘Thank you. But I don’t want Donna to think I’ve gone to any effort. I told her casual. Is this casual enough?’

 

John started to laugh. ‘Rose, my love. You could wear a bin bag or a thousand dollar ball gown and still be yourself. You just have that natural ability to put people at their ease.’

 

‘Oh I hope I can put them at their ease. I SO want this evenin’ to go well. I’d love for them to be our friends.’

 

‘Rose. It’s Donna. She was my best mate in the old universe. She’s mad about us. She’ll be our best mate in this universe,’ John told her.

 

‘Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I’d better go and see how dinner’s comin’ along,’ she said and went into the kitchen.

 

‘Come on then kids. I’ll nip you over to Grumpy’s and Grandma’s in the TARDIS,’ John said, and they grabbed the items they wanted to take for the evening, before heading for the basement with Ricky the Cyberdog.

 

‘Bye Mum. Have a nice evening,’ they called out.

 

‘Oh. Bye kids. Have a nice time at the Mansion. I’ll see you later,’ Rose called back to them before turning to Donna-the-Robot. ‘So we’ve got a spiced aubergine dip with tortilla chips for nibbles while we relax and get to know each other.’

 

[‘Yeah, and then there’s pea & chervil soup with crème fraîche for the starter,’] Donna-the-Robot told her.

 

‘Sounds delicious. What about the main course? Did you do something with that salmon I bought?’

 

[‘Asian salmon & sweet potato bake.’]

 

‘Oh that’s perfect. Well done,’ Rose said with relief.

 

[‘And of course, a Banoffee Pavlova for his lordship,’] Donna-the-House said with a smirk on her visual display.

 

‘You spoil him,’ Rose said with a laugh.

 

John returned about ten minutes later and came through to the kitchen. He must have changed in their room in the TARDIS, because he was now wearing sand coloured chinos, a black, open necked shirt, and white Converse. He put his arms around his wife’s waist and kissed her cheek from behind.

 

‘Mmm. something smells nice,’ he said.

 

Rose turned in his arms and kissed his lips. ‘Yeah. It’s called dinner. Here, try the dip.’

 

She took a tortilla chip, scooped up some of the spiced aubergine dip, and fed it to him. ‘Ooh. That is VERY nice.’

 

Rose took a chip and tried it herself. ‘Oh yeah,’ she said, covering her mouth as she spoke. ‘Gorgeous.’

 

[‘There’s a taxi pullin’ up outside,’] Donna-the-House announced.

 

‘That’s them,’ Rose said urgently. ‘I’ll go and let them in.’

 

‘Good idea,’ John said with his cheeky smile.

 

Rose stuck her tongue out at him and hurried down the hallway to the front door. When she opened the door, Donna was just coming up the steps, whilst Shaun paid the cabbie. It was a cold evening, and they were both wearing their winter coats with scarves and gloves.

 

‘Donna. How was your journey?’ Rose said as they kissed left and right cheeks.

 

‘Fine thanks. We’re used to commutin’ in on the train.’

 

‘Come in. Shall I take your coat?’

 

Donna stepped inside and wiped her ankle high boots on the coconut mat, and handed Rose a bottle of wine.

 

‘Oh thank you Donna.’ She looked at the label. ‘Pinot Noir. That will be perfect with the main course.’

 

Rose helped her off with her coat. ‘This is a lovely coat,’ Rose said politely, trying to make conversation. ‘It looks nice and warm.’

 

‘Like a piece of toast,’ Donna said with a smile.

 

Shaun came in behind her, and Rose did the left and right cheek kiss with him. ‘Hi Shaun. Here, let me take your coat.’

 

As Rose hung up their coats on the hooks by the door, John was coming out of the kitchen at the rear of the house with a tray of dip and tortilla chips.

 

‘Come on in to the living room and have a warm by the fire. I’ve got some nibbles here to whet your appetite.’

 

They followed John through the first door on the right into the living room, where he put the tray on a low table. They looked around the room admiring the Victorian fireplace, and appreciating the warmth that the log fire was giving off. Donna looked up at the traditional high ceiling, with the intricate ceiling rose and cornicing.

 

‘You have a lovely home here John,’ Donna said in appreciation.

 

‘Thank you,’ Rose said as she came in behind them. ‘We love it here. Please, have a seat. Make yourselves at home,’ she said, indicating the sofa with a sweep of her arm.

 

‘Can I get you a drink?’ John asked. ‘Beer? Wine? Cider?’

 

‘I’ll have a lager if you’ve got one John,’ Shaun said cheerfully.

 

‘Er, yeah. A larger will be fine thanks,’ Donna said hesitantly. She was a bit overwhelmed in the presence (and the house), of her idols.

 

‘No problem,’ John said with a reassuring smile. ‘Rose?’

 

‘Yeah. Lager please Love . . . Oh, and would you take this into the kitchen,’ she said, handing him the bottle of wine and taking a seat adjacent to the sofa.

 

‘Ooh. Pinot Noir. Very nice.’ He went through to the kitchen, and there was a silence in the room. Not an awkward silence, or an embarrassed one. It was more of an uncertain of what to say next silence.

 

‘I like your outfit,’ Donna said, making the first opening gambit. ‘I love that skirt.’

 

Rose looked down at her short leather skirt. ‘Really? I got it in a sale years ago at Henrick’s. It’s my favourite.’

 

‘Is it Alexander McQueen?’

 

‘Yes! It is,’ Rose said enthusiastically.

 

‘I wouldn’t have thought you’d have needed to go lookin’ for things in a sale?’ Donna said, and then thought that might be a bit presumptuous and forward. ‘Oh. I didn’t mean . . .’

 

Rose laughed and patted her knee. ‘Hey, I still like to snag a bargain. I get that from me mum.’

 

Donna laughed with relief. She hadn’t blown it yet. ‘I just thought, bein’ an heiress you’d have people to do yer shoppin’ for ya, and have personal shoppers an’ stuff.’

 

‘Oh James at Henrick’s is my man. He’s such a sweetie. It’s like he can read my mind. He knows exactly what I’m looking for when I go in there,’ Rose said in a semi-posh voice.

 

‘Really?’ Donna asked in amazement.

 

Rose kept her face straight for as long as she could and then spurted a laugh. ‘Nah. Sorry, I was windin’ yer up. Mum loves the personal shoppers, but I prefer to do me own shoppin’.’

 

Donna relaxed and laughed with her. ‘You had me goin’ then. Can I just say, you are just like you are on the telly. I thought that would be just for the cameras, an’ then when you got home you’d be all cocktails an’ dinner suits.’

 

Rose whooped with laughter as John entered with their drinks. ‘Donna. Can I say as well; I was so nervous about tonight. I didn’t know whether to wear this outfit, or to put an old pair of jeans an’ a T shirt on.’

 

‘Told you,’ Shaun said.

 

Donna laughed with her. ‘Me too. I didn’t know whether casual meant casual-casual, or posh-casual.’

 

Rose howled with laughter. ‘What the hell is posh-casual?’

 

‘I have no idea,’ Donna confessed and howled with her.

 

‘That’s the ice broken then,’ John said to Shaun with a grin as he handed him his lager.

 

‘Looks like it mate, yeah,’ Shaun laughed.

 

Once they had started laughing, they relaxed and started proper conversations about everyday life as they helped themselves to the dip.

 

‘I love this dip Rose. Did you make it yourself?’ Donna asked.

 

‘Well, although I do like to cook, and I’d like to say yes, the chef would kill me if I took the credit,’ Rose replied.

 

‘You have a chef?! And you said you weren’t posh,’ Donna said with a cheeky grin.

 

‘No, honest. I am SO not posh. It’s a robot John built for me as a birthday present. She helps around the house while we’re at work, and the kids love her.’

 

‘She. It’s a she?’ Shaun asked in amazement.

 

‘Yeah. I gave it a personality to make it more friendly and acceptable,’ John explained.

 

‘Can we meet it?’ Donna asked.

 

Ah. Elephant in the room. John and Rose looked at each other.

 

‘Let’s have dinner first, then we can tell our story, and then we’ll introduce you to the house robot and computer,’ John suggested.

 

‘And talkin’ of dinner, shall we go through to the dinin’ room?’ Rose suggested.

 

They left the sitting room, turned right towards the back of the house and went through the next door on the right. Once again, it had the traditional high ceilings, with intricate ceiling rose and cornice. The wall at the rear of the house had French windows which led onto the decked garden. On the same wall as the door was a serving hatch to the kitchen.

 

‘Find yourselves somewhere to sit, and I’ll go get the wine,’ John said, as he detoured into the kitchen.

 

Donna-the-Robot was sitting on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. [‘That woman looks like me.’]

 

‘Er, yes. And not just looks either,’ John told her as he reached a corkscrew out of the draw.

 

[‘She’s the one you modelled me on, isn’t she?’]

 

‘Yes. She’s this universes version of Donna Noble.’

 

[‘Bit awkward for ya . . . What with me lookin’ an’ soundin’ like her,’] Donna-the-Robot observed. [‘She’s gonna think it’s a bit weird, you havin’ a robot likeness of her in yer house, ain’t she.’]

 

John pulled the cork out of the bottle. ‘Er, yes, She will until we can explain. Look Donna, she really wants to meet you. So would you mind just hanging around here in the kitchen until we’ve told her the story, and then we’ll introduce you as a tribute to her rather than, well . . . whatever it is she’d think you were without the explanation.’

 

[‘Obsession . . ? Sex toy?’] she said with a smirk on her digital face.

 

John snorted a laugh. ‘Yeah. Probably.’

 

[‘I’ll just plug me self in and charge for a bit then.’]

 

‘Thanks Donna,’ he said quietly as he took the wine to the table. He poured them each a glass. ‘Rose if I pass the soup through the hatch, could you hand it out?’

 

‘Course Love.’

 

With the starter on the table, they started their meal.

 

‘So where did you two meet then?’ Rose asked as she sipped her soup.

 

‘Majorca of all places,’ Donna replied. ‘My friend Nerys dragged me off on a package holiday. Y’know the sort with all the activities. Well, one day there was a scuba divin’ lesson, so I thought “why not”, and Shaun was there with his mates and had decided to try it as well.’

 

‘Yeah. We were doubly fortunate to both be on holiday on Majorca, because we met each other and we missed all that business with the Cybermen,’ Shaun said.

 

John was finishing his soup. ‘What. That was 2007 when you were away?’

 

‘Yeah,’ Donna said, and then realised what had happened that day. ‘Oh Rose. Your dad’s place got trashed by them, didn’t it? An’ people died. I’m so sorry.’

 

Rose smiled at her. ‘It was a long time ago now. All water under the bridge . . . So, you met at Majorca. What happened next?’

 

‘Well, he told me he was an architect, an’ I thought “result”. I told him I was a secretary with a temping agency an’ he said he was lookin’ for a good secretary . . .’

 

‘And you said, “is one hundred words a minute good enough for ya”,’ John said with a wiggle of his fingers and a big grin.

 

Donna looked at him suspiciously. ‘How do yer do that . . ? Know what I’m thinking?’

 

‘Tell you later. Please, carry on.’

 

‘Hmm. Right. So we exchange numbers, an’ I’m thinkin’ that’s the last I’ll see of that gorgeous hunk. I mean, I’d had holiday romances before. Then I get a call from the agency wantin’ to know if I wanted a long term contract with this firm of architects in the City . . .’

 

Shaun took up the story. ‘When I’d got back to work, I had a word with the senior partner and told him I’d met this amazin’ secretary who was available, and that was that. We courted for a couple of years and I realised I was nuts about her, so I proposed, and we were married a year later.’

 

‘Oh it was dead romantic Rose. A Christmas weddin’,’ Donna told her.

 

John frowned in thought. ‘A couple of years and add a year. It wouldn’t have been Christmas day, 2010 would it?’

 

‘Yes it was,’ Shaun confirmed.

 

Rose looked at John wide eyed. ‘But John, that was . . .’

 

‘And you got married at Saint Mary's Church, Hayden Road, Chiswick. Right?’ John stated rather than asked.

 

Donna’s mouth fell open again. ‘He’s doin’ it again.’ She gave him a suspicious frown. ‘Have you been stalkin’ me or somethin’? Cos this is gettin’ weird now.’

 

Rose snorted a laugh. ‘It’s alright Donna, honest. Oh we have got so much to tell you. Let’s start on the main course and we’ll explain.’

 

John gathered up the soup bowls and went through to the kitchen and took the Asian salmon & sweet potato bake out of the oven where it had been keeping hot.

 

[‘Goin’ well is it?’] Donna-the-Robot asked, as John handed the plates to Rose through the hatch.

 

‘Shhh. They’ll hear you,’ John whispered. ‘She knows there’s something strange now. We’re going to explain over the salmon.’

 

[‘Lucky salmon.’]

 

John put the oblong dish on the ledge of the hatch, and handed the oven gloves over to Rose, who transferred it to the table. Once at the table, John divided the dish into four portions with the serving spoon and scooped it onto the offered plates.

 

‘Oh this smells delicious,’ Shaun said, and started to eat.

 

‘Mmmm. Rose. This is gorgeous. Your chef is a genius,’ Donna said.

 

[‘Thanks,’] Donna-the-Robot said to herself in the kitchen.

 

‘Now Donna. I know you’re a big fan of ours,’ John said, and she looked suitably embarrassed. ‘So you know all about how we met don’t you?’

 

‘Yeah. I’ve read that piece in Time Magazine so many times, and I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve watched the Parkinson interview you did. Your just so . . . Oh I don’t know. So brilliant. The way you rescued her in that nightclub in Switzerland John. And Rose, you make me cry everytime you tell Parky how you were separated while John was off bein’ a secret agent,’ Donna told them.

 

‘It never happened,’ John told her, bursting her bubble. At least for now.

 

‘Yer what?’

 

‘That, is a Torchwood cover story to hide our real story,’ John told them.

 

‘But it was on Parky an’ everythin’,’ she protested. As far as she was concerned, if it was on the BBC, it had to be true.

 

‘Donna, Shaun. What we are about to tell you is very personal and private, and we’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone else,’ John said.

 

‘Not that anyone’s gonna believe you anyway,’ Rose said with a smile.

 

‘Well of course. If it’s private. You have my word that no one will hear it from me,’ Donna said earnestly.

 

‘Me too,’ Shaun said.

 

And so over the main course, which everyone thought was delicious, John and Rose started to tell their story. Rose started with the story of how they had accidently fallen into this parallel universe.

 

‘Oh now you’re just makin’ fun of me,’ Donna said, upset that her idols were teasing her like this.

 

She was starting to suspect that something wasn’t right about this evening. She’d even said to Shaun that she didn’t know why rich and famous celebrities like the Smith’s would want to be friends with the likes of her. And then she remembered a play on television, where rich people would have a competition to see who could invite the chavviest person to a dinner party and have some fun at their expense.

 

‘What is this? Donna asked with a slight head wobble of attitude.

 

‘Eh?’ Rose said, completely baffled by the question.

 

‘Some kind of contest is it?’

 

‘What?’ John said, also completely baffled.

 

‘Donna,’ Shaun said, trying to reign in her temper. But it was too late. She’d worked out what they were doing, and she wasn’t going to stand for it.

 

‘Let’s invite a couple of dumbos to a dinner party, tell ‘em a tall story, and see if they fall for it?’

 

‘What?!’ John and Rose said together, taken completely by surprise with the turn of events.

 

‘Did ya put Captain Flash up to it? Tellin’ us you were really excited to meet us and givin’ you my number,’ Donna said angrily.

 

‘Donna. Stop it,’ Shaun said, embarrassed by his wife’s outburst.

 

‘Well let me tell you. I ain’t no dumbo, an’ I didn’t come down with the last shower of rain. So thanks for the invite. Thanks for the food, and thanks for nothin’. Come on Shaun, we’re leavin’.

 

She stood up and looked down at Shaun with a command in her eyes which told him he’d better stand up and leave, which he reluctantly did. Rose had tears trickling down her cheeks, and John looked as though he had just been slapped in the face by Jackie.

 

‘Donna. Please,’ Rose sobbed. ‘It’s not like that, honest.’

 

[‘Why don’t you at least stay for dessert and let ME explain,’] Donna heard herself say from behind her. [‘It’s a Banoffee Pavlova, and yer’ll kick yourself if you miss it.’]

 

She and Shaun turned to see an android standing in the doorway with it’s human-like, prosthetic hands on it’s hips. It’s head had an almond shaped face with a high resolution screen, which showed Donna’s face smiling back at her.

 

‘Oh-my-God . . . It’s got my face!’


	25. Donna To The Rescue (of the dinner party)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna (the robot) takes charge of the situation and explains to Donna (the human) how John and Rose came to be in "Pete's World". They then get a lift home.

**Chapter 25**

 

**Donna To The Rescue (of the dinner party)**

  
  
  


Over the years, John had upgraded Donna-the-Robot, and now instead of looking like Asimo, she looked more like a black, CP3O from Star Wars. Sort of like Donna Noble wearing a  close fitting, carbon fibre suit. Her hands were now sleek and elegant, looking like prosthetic human hands. The personality processor was still the same though, as it was part of Donna-the-House. Changing that would be like giving her a frontal lobotomy, and John fully respected the rights of sentient beings, organic or synthetic.

 

Donna Templeton sat at the dining table and took a swig of her Pinot Noir. ‘You have a robot with my face on it.’

 

[‘It’s not just yer face actually,’] Donna-the-Robot said. 

 

‘I told you to stay in the kitchen,’ John hissed, trying not to be heard. ‘Now look what’s happened.’

 

[‘Oooh,’] Donna-the-Robot said sarcastically with her hands on her hips. [‘My master has spoken . . . Isn’t that just wizard.’]

 

‘Why has he got a robot that looks and sounds like me?’ Donna asked her husband.

 

[‘I’ll get to that in a minute Sweetheart,’] Donna-the-Robot told her. [‘But right now, I’ve got to try and sort this mess out.’] She turned to John. [‘You should have known better. You’re supposed to have a bit of Donna in that noggin of yours,’] she said, tapping his forehead with a finger.

 

‘I have,’ John replied, swatting her finger away.

 

[‘Well try listenin’ to her now and again. “Parallel universe”. Like she’s gonna believe that,’] the robot said.

 

‘But it’s true,’ John pleaded.

 

[‘We know that, but she don’t, and now you’ve got a wife in tears, and Donna with one of her “mares” on.’]

 

‘Oi!’ Donna protested.

 

Donna-the-Robot put a finger up to stop her. [‘Button it sister. I said I’ll be with ya in a minute.’]

 

Donna’s mouth was wide open. She looked at Shuan, who had a big grin on his face, and her mouth snapped shut. Shaun had never seen his wife being told to “button it” before. It was priceless. 

 

[‘Accessing psychology subroutine. Engaging counsellor mode,’] Donna-the-Robot said to herself. [‘Now, you should have realised that “down-to-earth-Donna” would need to be able to know that she could trust you first. Her insecurities mean that she is unsure of her relationship with you. She’s in awe of you. She idolises the pair of ya, and she thinks that someone as rich and famous as you would never really want to be her friend.’]

 

John looked at Donna and remembered when he had been born. “All that attitude, all that lip, because all this time you think you're not worth it. Shouting at the world because no one's listening. Well, why should they?”. He hung his head and sat at the table.

 

[‘And now Rose is devastated because she thinks that Donna thinks she’s some rich bitch snob who loves to put the little people in their place.’]

 

‘I . . . I don’t think that,’ Donna said hesitantly.

 

[‘Not now. But you did a minute ago. Because I know you Donna. I am you. John didn’t want you to see me until he’d explained the situation, and for him, that was quite astute.’]

 

‘Oi! In the room,’ John said.

 

Donna-the-Robot gave him a lopsided smile before continuing. [‘He was worried you’d think he was some kind of stalker, or that I was some kind of high tech sex doll . . . In yer dreams mate. But I’m actually a tribute to you, the you in another universe who saved all the universes.’]

 

‘So they’re not makin’ fun of us?’ Donna said guiltily, realising that she may have made a terrible mistake.

 

Donna-the-Robot smiled at her. [‘No, they’re not. They are two of the most genuine people you will ever meet. Okay, they’re not genuine about where they come from, but they were tryin’ to put that right when it all went pear shaped. Now I know you don’t believe them at the moment, but you can believe me. I’m a robot, and I can’t lie. It’s in my programming. So I’m goin’ to tell you their story,’] she said, with her prosthetic fingers crossed behind her back. John gave her an incredulous look.

 

Donna turned to Rose, who was dabbing her eyes with a tissue. ‘Oh Rose. I am SO sorry. When you started talkin’ about parallel universes . . . well, I . . .’

 

‘Went off on one,’ Shaun finished for her. ‘She gets that from her mum.’

 

‘No Donna. Our Donna was right. We should have realised that you’d have difficulty believin’ us,’ Rose said.

 

‘That doesn’t excuse what I said though. What I accused you of . . . You’ll never be able to forgive me for that. I won’t be able to forgive m’self . . . I’ve blown it haven’t I?’

 

Rose gave a single laugh and squeezed her hand across the table. ‘No. You haven’t blown it. You need to hear Donna out first, and then we’ll talk, yeah?’

 

‘Yeah,’ Donna sighed.

 

[‘Well that’s sorted then,’] Donna-the-Robot said. [‘I’ll serve dessert, tell the story, and see if I can rescue this dinner party.’]

 

They all laughed, which broke the tension in the room and lifted their spirits, as Donna-the-Robot went to fetch the dessert.

 

‘Ho, ho, ho. Banoffee Pavlova,’ John said with glee as his dish was put in front of him.

 

‘John has a thing about bananas,’ Rose explained.

 

[‘So. As Rose was sayin’, before she was rudely interrupted,’] Donna-the-Robot said, looking at Donna with a lopsided smile.

 

‘Donna!’ Rose reprimanded her.

 

[‘What? I was just sayin’. Anyway, this pair dropped into this universe on February 1st, 2007 . . .’]

 

Donna-the-Robot told the story of how they had been at Tyler Mansion when the Cybermen attacked, how people had died, and how they defeated John Lumic before leaving this parallel world.

 

‘So Jackie Tyler isn’t yer mum?’ Donna asked, trying to make sense of it so she could believe it.

 

‘That one wasn’t. My mum was in our universe at the time. Thank God. But it was still horrible, with her lookin’ like my mum and knowin’ what happened to her,’ Rose explained.

 

‘And Pete Tyler isn’t yer dad?’

 

‘He is now. My dad died when I was a baby, but Pete in this world eventually accepted me as his daughter. I think Mum bein’ here had a lot to do with it.’

 

[‘Yer gettin’ ahead of yerself,’] Donna-the-Robot said, and proceeded to tell them about the battle of Canary Wharf. How Pete brought Jackie and Rose to safety, and Rose had jumped back to be with “John”. She didn’t mention the Doctor at this point, it would have been a bit confusing. And then she told her how Rose had been pulled off the lever.

 

Donna put a hand to her mouth in horror. ‘Oh Rose! What happened?’

 

[‘I’m comin’ to that,’] Donna-the-Robot said, and continued. They breathed a sigh of relief when Pete jumped in and saved the day.

 

‘So that’s when you said John was undercover?’ Donna queried. ‘He was in another universe.’ Rose nodded. ‘You poor thing.’

 

They heard about Rose’s worst day of her life, and Donna wept at that. And then came Donna Noble.

 

[‘If you’d thought about that John, you’d have remembered that Donna thought you’d kidnapped her and went to call the police,’] Donna-the-Robot reminded him.

 

‘What happened,’ Shaun asked.

 

[‘She stomped off to the doors and pulled ‘em open. She realised she wasn’t in Chiswick anymore, ‘cos she could see a nebula in front of her, and the universe beyond. That was the only way she would have believed it. By seein’ it with her own eyes.’]

 

‘An’ that was just after you’d said goodbye to Rose? Thinkin’ you’d never see her again?’ Donna asked in a hushed voice.

 

‘Yeah,’ John sighed. ‘In our universe it was Christmas day, two thousand and ten.’

 

‘The day we got married,’ Donna told them.

 

[‘Parallel worlds. Parallel events,’] Donna-the-Robot said, before telling them about Martha Jones, the other universe’s Marla Jones. [‘She had the hots for John,’] she told them. [‘But he never even realised, ‘cos he was still mourning the loss of Rose.’]

 

‘What happened?’ Donna asked.

 

Donna-the-Robot showed a lopsided grin. [‘She dumped him.’]

 

Then she explained how he met Donna again, and how she helped him by just being a friend and lifting his spirits. And then came the grand finale, the Torchwood Dimension Cannon, the Time Beetle on Donna Noble’s back, the Darkness, (No it wasn’t a cloud of interstellar dust passing through the solar system. That was a Torchwood cover story.) and the Dalek Crucible.

 

[‘Now, here’s the tricky bit,’] Donna-the-Robot said. [‘In the other universe, John wasn’t John. He was someone called the Doctor, and he had a spare hand . . . Long story. Don’t ask . . . Anyway, Donna touched the spare hand container, and WHAM! Instant biological metacrisis. Or, to put it another way, skinny boy here was born from a fusion of the Doctor and Donna. Retaining all the memories from both, and a right mish mash of personalities. I’m surprised they haven’t driven each other nuts.’]

 

‘So there’s two of you?’ Donna asked.

 

‘Oh no,’ John said with some pride. ‘There’s only one of me. I’m unique.’

 

[‘Special is the word a social worker would use,’] Donna-the-Robot said with a smirk.

 

Rose burst out laughing at the expression on John’s face. ‘To all intents and purposes, yeah, there’s two of them. Side by side you wouldn’t be able to tell them apart. But inside, John is human. He has all the same memories he had before, the same intellect, but he has . . . how shall I put it? He has a human outlook on life.’

 

‘Nicely put wife,’ John said with a fond smile.

 

‘And that’s when you appeared as a couple then? When the newspapers started to plaster you over the gossip pages?’ Donna asked.

 

‘Yeah. That was it, and you know the rest from there,’ John said.

 

‘It still sounds so . . . unbelievable,’ said Donna.

 

[‘I think she needs to open those doors, John,’] Donna-the-Robot  suggested in a sing-song voice.

 

Rose’s eyes went wide. ‘Oh, what a brilliant idea.’

 

‘What is?’ Donna asked.

 

John grinned. ‘What time was your train home?’

 

‘We were going to get the late one,’ Shaun told him.

 

‘Forget it,’ John said. ‘We’ll give you a lift home.’

 

‘Oh no. We couldn’t ask you to drive all that way,’ Donna told him.

 

‘Who said anything about driving?’

  
  


+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

  
  


With the meal finished, Rose had taken their guests through to the living room where they relaxed with another drink. John told them he was just going to fetch the children before it was their bedtime.

 

Donna was still mortified about her earlier outburst, and Rose kept trying to reassure her that it was an understandable mistake and that she should forget it.

 

‘So where are the children this evenin’ Rose? You’ve got three haven’t ya?’ Donna asked, trying to make conversation and build bridges that really hadn’t collapsed in the first place.

 

‘Yeah, that’s right. They’re over at Mum and Dad’s bein’ doted on,’ Rose replied with a smile. ‘Mum and Dad love havin’ kids around them. They say it keeps ‘em young at heart.’ She felt them arriving in the TARDIS down in the basement. ‘Ah, and here they are now, if I’m not much mistaken.’

 

‘Blimey. That was quick,’ Donna said. ‘I thought your parents lived the other side of London.’

 

‘They do . . . But John knows a shortcut,’ Rose said with a teasing smile.

 

‘Hi Mum,’ the children called out as they bustled into the room.

 

‘Hi. Did you have a nice time?’ Rose asked.

 

‘Yeah. We were playing Tony’s new game on the Play-Box,’ EJ told her.

 

Ricky the Cyberdog scurried in and made a beeline for Shaun and started sniffing around his shoes.

 

‘Well hello there little fella,’ he said, scratching behind his ear. 

 

‘Kids. Say hello to Donna and Shaun,’ John said as he followed them into the room.

 

‘Hello,’ they said politely.

 

‘Hang on,’ EJ said. ‘You look like Donna-the-Robot.’ He turned to his father. ‘Is this the lady you modelled her on?’

 

John ruffled EJ’s hair. ‘Yep. That’s her . . . Well, this universe’s version of her.’

 

‘You found her then Dad. That’s brilliant,’ Juleshka said with a beaming smile. ‘Mum and Dad talk about you all the time.’

 

Donna smiled. ‘Well I don’t think it’s me they’re talkin’ about. I don’t think I could live up to that legend.’

 

‘I bet you could,’ Jason said. ‘Dad says none of us know what we can achieve until we’re put to the test.’

 

Donna gave a little laugh. ‘Wise words young man,’ She smiled at Rose. ‘Your children are adorable, Rose.’

 

Rose returned her smile. ‘Thank you. We are very proud of them. And it’s time for their bedtime.’ She turned to her children. ‘Come on kids. Time for bed. Say goodnight to Donna and Shaun.

 

‘Goodnight Donna. Goodnight Shaun.’

 

‘Goodnight.’

 

Rose shepherded them out of the room, and returned a few minutes later. The evening continued pleasantly, until Donna thought it was time for them to be going. Although she was really enjoying being in the presence of her heroes, despite her earlier faux pas, she didn’t want to overstay her welcome.

 

‘Well, thank you both for a wonderful evenin’,’ Donna said as she finished her drink. ‘Even if I did try an’ ruin it.’

 

John and Rose laughed. ‘I’ve told you, it’s water under the bridge,’ Rose told her. ‘I’ve forgotten it already, and I hope you will too.’

 

Donna smiled. ‘Thank you Rose. So we’d better be goin’. We don’t want to overstay our welcome.’

 

‘You can stay as long as you like,’ John told them.

 

‘That’s very kind,’ Shaun said. ‘But we’d better get off.’

 

‘But I’d like to return the favour,’ Donna said hesitantly. ‘I mean, if you’d like . . . I don’t suppose you would . . .’

 

‘We’d love to come to yours Donna,’ Rose said as she hugged her, and then thought she’d been a bit presumptuous. ‘You were gonna invite us to dinner, right? I haven’t just invited us have I?’

 

Donna laughed. ‘Yeah. It’s a dinner invite. Please say you’ll come.’

 

‘Of course we’ll come,’ Rose told her.

 

‘That’s sorted then,’ John said. ‘Taxi for Templeton.’

 

‘You really don’t have to give us a lift,’ Shaun said.

 

‘Oh trust me. You wouldn’t want to miss this ride,’ John said mysteriously.

 

‘I’ll get your coats,’ Rose announced, and went down the hallway to the front door. ‘Donna. We’re just giving Donna and Shaun a lift home. Keep an eye on the kids for us.’

 

[‘Okay Rose. No problem,’] Donna-the-Robot called from the kitchen.

 

Shaun and Donna were about to walk to the front door, but were puzzled when Rose walked back towards them, and John opened a door under the stairs, which was opposite the dining room door.

 

‘This way,’ John called out, as he started to descend a set of stairs which led to the basement.

 

‘Where’s he goin’?’ Donna asked Rose. ‘Have ya got a tube station in the basement or somethin’?’ It was the only thing she could think of that made any sense.

 

Rose snorted a laugh. ‘No, nothing like that. This is way better.’

 

The lower ground storage vaults under the house had originally been converted into a gymnasium, workshop and laboratory. However, the gym had been extended transdimensionally with a piece of TARDIS coral to include an olympic sized swimming pool. In the corner of the workshop, was the TARDIS. John walked up to it and put the key in the lock.

 

‘Ooh, let me go first Love,’ Rose said, and kissed him on the cheek as she squeezed past.

 

‘What are you two up to?’ Donna asked.

 

‘Come and see,’ Rose called from inside.

 

Donna looked at Shaun. Did Rose’s voice have an echo in that small box? She shrugged her shoulders and stepped through the door. John waggled his eyebrows at Shaun.

 

‘No-way!’ they heard Donna say from inside.

 

Shaun was about to step in, when his wife bumped into him as she backed out, open mouthed. She leaned to the right and looked down the side of the TARDIS. She stepped to her left and looked down that side as well. When she had moved to the left, Shaun stepped inside.

 

‘Oh-my-God! What is this place?’ he asked as he looked up at the white marble coral struts, the cornice mouldings and the oak panelling. 

 

Rose had put their coats over the handrails around the central console, and had her bum resting on it with her arms and legs crossed. She had an enormous smile on her face. She never got tired of this.

 

‘It’s called the TARDIS,’ she told him as Donna and John came through the door.

 

‘This-is-BONKERS!’ Donna said, turning in a circle as she looked at the interior. Rose laughed as she watched them.

 

John grinned and ran up the ramp to the console. ‘Right. All aboard for Dunwich.’

 

The pair of them orbited the console, setting coordinates and preparing for flight. Shaun and Donna walked up the ramp to join them, and watched in wonder as the Time Rotor started grinding up and down.

 

‘So this room is inside that wooden box?’ Shaun asked, trying to get it straight in his head.

 

‘That’s right,’ Rose said with a grin as she looked up from the console.

 

‘If I could design a building like this, I could make a fortune.’

 

‘Sorry my old mate. You can’t build a TARDIS. They have to be grown.’

 

Donna was spellbound as she watched the Time Rotor and listened to the wheezing, grinding noise. It made her feel tingly inside, like she used to when she was a child at Christmas.

 

‘What’s it doin’ that for?’ she asked.

 

‘It’s the engine,’ Rose told her.

 

‘Engine? Is this some kind of ship or somethin’?’

 

‘Best ship in the universe,’ John said. ‘It was a ship like this that Donna Noble used to travel in.’

 

‘And me,’ Rose reminded him. ‘And Martha, Sarah Jane, Susan. All of them. This is the Old Girl’s daughter.’

 

‘Daughter. Grown. You make it sound like it’s alive,’ Shaun said.

 

Rose stroked the Time Rotor housing. ‘She is alive. She’s like a sister to me.’

 

‘So we’re travellin’ now?’ Donna asked, trying to work out exactly how it all worked.

 

‘Yep,’ John replied.

 

‘Through a tunnel under London?’

 

Rose laughed. ‘Nah. It sort of disappears from one place an’ reappears somewhere else.’

 

‘Oh, of course it does. I was bein’ daft.’

 

The pitch of the Time Rotor changed, and John and Rose started their dance around the console again. There was a gentle clomp, and the Time Rotor stopped.

 

‘Ooh look,’ Rose said as she glanced at the console. ‘We’ve got a message from Aeona.’

 

Donna glanced at the concentric circles and lines on the screen. ‘That’s a message is it? It looks like the design on your top.’

 

‘That says “You have one message in your inbox”. It’s Gallifreyan. This says “Rose”,’ Rose told her, holding her stop stretched out.

 

‘What does Aeona say?’ John asked, walking around to read it with her. Rose opened the message.

 

‘She believes that she’s found all of the reported xenogenesis cases. All the details are in an attached file,’ Rose read.

 

‘Great. We can get started on that tomorrow and sort out a plan of action,’ John said enthusiastically, before turning to Donna and Shaun. ‘You two had better get your coats on. It’s a bit nippy out there.’

 

‘You mean we’ve reappeared in Dunwich?’ Shaun asked.

 

John held is arm out towards the doors. ‘See for yourself.’

 

They shrugged their coats on, and walked down the ramp, where they pulled open the doors. Outside, instead of a workshop, there was darkness, highlighted with the blue / white light of LED street lamps. Off to the right was the Sickle and Scythe Inn, in front of them was the Green, with its five elms and white-railed pond. And to the left were a row of cottages, one of them being Donna and Shaun’s.

 

They started to giggle as they stepped out into the cold night air. ‘We’ve travelled from your basement, to our village in the matter of minutes,’ Donna realised. ‘That-is-brilliant.’

 

John put his arm around Rose’s shoulders, and she slipped her arm around his waist as they stood in the doorway, backlit by the TARDIS interior.

 

‘You take care you two, and we’ll see you again soon,’ John said.

 

‘You take care too,’ Donna said.

 

‘Oh, Donna. Give me a call about dinner and we’ll check our diaries,’ Rose said.

 

‘Definitely. Good night.’

 

‘Good night.’

 


	26. Righting Wrongs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s quite a lot of things going on in this chapter as things progress.  
> The planet Pasquite mentioned in this chapter is from the novel “Shining Darkness” by Mark Michalowski.

**Chapter 26**

 

**Righting Wrongs**

  
  
  


**The Smith’s Residence.**

 

**Northumberland Place.**

 

**Notting Hill, London.**

  
  


‘Donna?’ John called out as he and Rose came up from the basement.

 

[‘In the kitchen,’] they heard Donna-the-Robot call in reply.

 

They went into the kitchen and saw her sitting at the breakfast bar with her charging lead plugged in. [‘Yer back then?’]

 

John gave a little laugh. ‘Yeah, we’re back . . . I, er, just wanted to say thank you. Y’know, for helping us save the evening.’

 

She gave them a lopsided smile on her screen. [‘Yer welcome. But I did have a bit of an advantage, seein’ as my personality subprocessor is based on Donna’s psyche.’]

 

‘Tellin’ her yer couldn’t lie was a nice trick as well,’ Rose said with a grin.

 

[‘Yeah. It’s all about psychology. I knew Donna would believe it, and then she’d believe your story.’]

 

Rose walked over and hugged her. ‘Thanks again, Donna.’

 

[‘No problem. Now leave me alone and let me charge, or you’ll have no breakfasts in the mornin’,’] she said with mock annoyance.

 

‘Tell you what Donna. Why don’t you have the day off tomorrow? Our way of saying thanks,’ John suggested.

 

[‘And do what? Sit in the kitchen, twiddling me thumbs?’]

 

‘We could drop you off on Pasquite for the day,’ Rose offered. Pasquite was a robot planet which the Doctor and Donna Noble had visited in the old universe. It had an amazing machine theme park, with a simulator which showed what it was like to be organic.

 

[‘Seriously? You’d do that for me?’] Donna asked.

 

‘Of course we would. You’re one of the family,’ Rose said.

 

[‘Yeah . . . Okay. I’ll have a day out. Brilliant.’]

 

‘Goodnight Donna,’ John said, and they left her to charge.

 

Rose kissed him on the cheek. ‘That was a lovely thought. I think you should have a reward for bein’ so nice,’ she said, with her tongue between her teeth smile and a twinkle in her eye.

 

‘Ooh. What have you got in mind Misses Smith?’

 

‘You Doctor Smith, are telepathic.’

 

He had a big grin on his face, and he waggled his eyebrows. ‘You’re right. I am.’ He took her hand and led her up the stairs to their bedroom.

  
  


+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

  
  


Rose was lying with her leg and arm across John, with her head nestled into his shoulder. His arm was around her shoulder, stroking her blond locks. She roused slowly and kissed his chest.

 

‘Mornin’ stud,’ she said dreamily as she drew circles around his nipple.

 

He chuckled. ‘Morning sex kitten.’

 

‘Ooh. Sex kitten eh?’ She looked over his chest towards the door and grinned as she saw her top, black lacy bra, leather mini skirt, boots and her black knickers, mixed in with John’s shirt, chino’s, shorts and Converse; strewn like a trail of breadcrumbs from the door to the bed.

 

‘Oh, we’d better get up. Don’t forget we’ve given Donna the day off,’ she reminded him.

 

‘I haven’t forgotten, and we’ve still got time for one more,’ he replied, as he rolled on top of her and pulled the duvet over them.

 

Rickey the cyberdog trotted into Eyulf’s bedroom and clambered up onto his bed. He proceeded to snuffle in his ear, and lick his face.

 

Mornin’ Rickey,' he said, stroking his pet's head and scratching its ear. ‘Is it that time already?’

 

The mechanical pet wagged his tail in satisfaction, jumped off the bed, and trotted out of the door to find the next recipient of his friendly wake up call. He moved across the transdimensional landing of the “larger on the inside” house, and into the bedroom opposite.

 

Juleshka was asleep on her side, and Rickey stood on his hind legs with his front paws on the bed. He gently licked her cute, button nose, and she stirred as she wiped her damp nose. Her eyes flickered open, and a smile spread across her face as she saw the dog balancing in front of her, wagging its tail.

 

She grabbed his ears and kissed him on the nose. 'Morning Rickey.' He panted excitedly, licked her nose again, and trotted out of the room. 

 

He went back to the main part of the house and made his way into Jason’s room. Once again he jumped up onto the bed and snuffled in his ear, and licked his face.

 

‘Hee, hee. Morning Rickey. I’m getting up,’ Jason told him.

 

Rickey headed for the kitchen to announce that his programming was complete and his three charges were awake. 

 

‘Mornin’ Rickey,’ Rose said. ‘Everybody awake?’

 

“Woof.”

 

‘Good boy.’ She picked a battery “treat” out of a bowl on the counter and flicked it in the air. 

 

Rickey scampered into position, caught the treat in his mouth and swallowed it. She heard the children coming down the stairs, and saw them coming down the hallway towards the kitchen.

 

‘Mornin’. What d’yer want for breakfast?’ Rose asked.

 

EJ frowned. ‘Er, cornflakes please Mum . . . Where’s Donna?’

 

‘On Pasquite,’ John said as he came out of the basement. ‘We gave her the day off.’

 

‘Oh that’s nice for her,’ Juleshka said. ‘Weetabix please Mum.’

 

‘Can I have Rice Krispies please,’ Jason asked.

 

‘I’ll get that for you Son,’ John said, and helped Rose get the children ready for their day.

 

Rose ate her toast and drank her tea, as she prepared Juleshka and Jason’s school bags. Eyulf sorted his own bag.

 

[‘Alice is here, Rose,’] Donna-the-House announced.

 

‘Thanks Donna,’ Rose replied.

 

‘Does Donna-the-House get a day off?’ Jason asked.

 

[‘What am I gonna do, grow stilts an’ go for a walk?’] Donna laughed.

 

‘With that TARDIS coral in your walls I wouldn’t put it past you, ‘ John said.

 

[‘Ooh. That’s a thought,’] Donna joked. [‘No Jason. I’m fine Sweetheart. I’m interfacing with my robot body through the TARDIS, so I’m there as well.’]

 

‘Morning everyone,’ Alice greeted them as she entered the kitchen.

 

‘Morning Alice / Auntie Alice,’ everyone replied.

 

‘Where’s Donna?’ Alice asked.

 

[‘Day off,’] Donna-the-House told her. [‘At the moment I’m bein’ chatted up by this maintenance droid. He’s gorgeous. All shiny and glintin’. And those strong hands . . . he can run them over my body any day.’]

 

‘Donna! Children present,’ Rose chided as they had a fit of the giggles.

 

[‘Oops!. Sorry,’] she said in a way that implied she wasn’t sorry at all.

 

Rose finished her tea and put the cup in the dishwasher with her plate. She grabbed her bag, snogged John, and kissed each of her children on their cheeks.

 

‘Bye kids, bye Donna. Have a good day. See ya later John,’ she said as she went down the hallway.

 

They climbed into Alice’s car and set off down Northumberland Place, turning right onto Talbot Road and right again onto Westbourne Park Road, heading towards Edgware where they could join the Westway.

 

‘How did the dinner party go?’ Alice asked, as she drove towards Harrow Road.

 

‘Oh don’t ask,’ Rose said with a laugh. ‘We were all awkward like to start with, and then we got laughin’ and everythin’ settled down. And then we came to tell our story and Donna didn’t believe it. She thought we were makin’ fun of her and that we’d only invited her ‘cos she was common.’

 

‘Oh no. What did you do?’ Alice asked.

 

‘Well, Donna-the-Robot stepped into the room and said she’d tell our story ‘cos she was programmed not to lie.’

 

‘I didn’t know that.’

 

‘No, she isn’t. It was a lie. But Donna didn’t know that and she believed it. Fortunately, it also meant that she believed our story.’

 

‘Hah! Clever bit of psychology.’

 

‘Yeah. That’s what Donna-the-Robot said. We gave her the day off for helpin’ us out. Also, we gave them a lift home in the TARDIS, and that sealed it.’

 

‘Good. So are you going to meet up again?’ Alice inquired.

 

‘Yeah. We’re goin’ to theirs next time. Oh, and we had a message from the archivist at the Shadow Proclamation while we were in the TARDIS. She’s found all the suspected cases of xenogenesis that are on record. She sent us the files.’

 

‘Hmm. I’d like to take a look at those. I might be able to profile the people responsible and find out a bit more about them,’ Alice told her.

 

‘Couldn’t hurt,’ Rose said. ‘I can download them onto my phone and send them to you.’

 

‘Thank you.’

  
  


**Torchwood Special Operations Standby Room.**

 

**Torchwood Tower, Canary Wharf.**

 

**08:10.**

  
  


‘. . . And André. As Angel is off duty today, I’ve put you on Despatch,’ Rose said as she finished the briefing. ‘Okay people, vamoosh.’

 

“Ace”, “Numbers”, “Irish” and “Welsh” headed for the lift, whilst the rest of the watch headed for the kitchen or the sofas. André headed towards the Despatch Office.

 

‘André,’ Rose called after him, and he turned. ‘How’s Angel?’

 

‘Nervous . . . Excited at the same time,’ he replied.

 

Rose gave a little laugh. ‘Understandable, but she’ll be in good hands. What time’s her appointment?’

 

‘Eleven hundred in the Day Case Unit.’

 

‘Okay. I’ll come and relieve you on Despatch so that you can go and be with her,’ Rose told him.

 

‘Thank you Rose. Angel would appreciate that.’

 

‘No problem,’ she replied with a smile.

 

At 09:35, Rose went to the kitchen area and poured two mugs of tea. She picked them both up and handed one to John just as he arrived.

 

‘Hah! Lovely,’ he said as he kissed her on the lips.

 

‘Have you got Angel’s stents? Her procedure’s at eleven,’ Rose asked.

 

John reached in his jacket pocket and took out a clear plastic package with some thin mesh tubes in it. ‘Yep. The TARDIS has sterilised them and they’re ready to go. A miracle of bioengineering.’

 

‘Was it as easy as you thought?’

 

‘The enzymes to modify André’s little swimmers was a cinch. However, when I looked at Angel’s genome I realised I’d have to modify that as well. If you recall, she was an asexual drone when she was picked up by the police, and then metamorphosed to female.’

 

‘Oh yeah. How’d ya get around that then?’

 

‘I used the TARDIS to decode her genome and introduced messenger RNA to rewrite the DNA in the egg. That will induce the metamorphosis in utero.’

 

‘Brilliant,’ Rose said, and then had a thought. ‘Will their babies have wings?’

 

‘Dunno. It’s a flip of a coin. Depends on who’s got the dominant genes.’ He finished his tea and kissed her again. ‘I’d better get these to the Day Case Unit. See you later.’

  
  


+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

  
  


**The TARDIS.**

 

**10-3-17-0-1 by 0-2 from galactic zero centre.**

 

**John and Rose’s lunch hour.**

 

**Sometime in Earth’s past.**

  
  


Harkenbrokken was a level six planet with two moons, both of which were colonised. Being level six, the Harkenbrokkenens had survived the customary ecological and nuclear disasters, along with global warming, and now had a peaceful, civilised world, powered by clean energy.

 

There were four main continents with a number of large islands dotted between them. The TARDIS had landed in a small community in the northern territory of the southern continent, and John and Rose had sought out the leader of the town. They told him they were following up on a report received by the Shadow Proclamation, and had information, as well as an offer of help.

 

‘So who are these children that our women are carrying?’ The mayor of the small township asked John and Rose. They were in his office in the town centre.

 

‘We don’t know where they came from, or who impregnates the women. We do know that the children have a psionic ability which can be detrimental to society,’ John explained.

 

‘Psionic ability?’

 

‘They are able to compel people to do their bidding. As you can imagine, when the authorities find this out, they will want to examine the children to try and control these psionic abilities for themselves,’ John continued.

 

‘Or they’ll be terrified of them and try to kill them,’ Rose added.

 

‘Well, we’ve managed to keep this to ourselves so far, but if what you say is true, it looks as though we will have to abort these pregnancies,’ the mayor said sadly. Like John, he was no fan of genocide.

 

‘They won’t let you,’ John told him. ‘The babies will have already developed the part of the brain which has the psionic abilities, and their survival instinct will kick in. The mother’s won’t consent to a termination, and if you try to do it by force . . . You’ll be killed in your sleep by the women.’

 

‘Then what do we do?’

 

‘We have a technique that will restructure their brains and render them harmless,’ John said, and then scratched the back of his head. ‘Welll, I can’t guarantee they won’t be a problem when they’re teenagers, but who can?’

 

‘John,’ Rose cut in. ‘What he’s tryin’ to say is that they will be normal children with a telepathic link with each other. They won’t be able to force anyone to do anythin’.’

 

‘Once they are rendered harmless, we can safely extract them from the women who don’t want them, and gestate them in an artificial uterus,’ John explained.

 

‘And for anyone who wants to keep the babies, this telepathic link isn’t dangerous?’

 

‘No. Our kids have it. Me and John have it, and it’s brilliant. If one of us learns somethin’ or experiences somethin’, then we can share it,’ Rose told him.

 

‘And what are the children like? I presume they are like us?’ the mayor asked.

 

‘We rescued one recently and disabled his psionic powers. He was just a normal, scared, twelve year old kid with blond hair and golden eyes. Our kids got on with him okay,’ John said. ‘He’s the one I used to develop the technique on. Once we’d neutralised the threat, we took him back to his world and used it on his brothers and sisters.’

 

‘I would have thought performing neurosurgery on someone who can stop you with a thought would have been difficult,’ the mayor said.

 

‘That’s the beauty of it. They didn’t know. I used programmed nanogenes. They walked into an invisible cloud of them, and hey presto, cured.’

 

‘And you will do that for us?’

 

‘Er . . . already done,’ John said sheepishly holding up the nanogene dispenser.

 

‘Amazing!’ the mayor said. ‘And what happened to the children when you made them impotent? I can imagine they weren’t very popular.’

 

‘Yer can say that again,’ Rose said.

 

Before the mayor could say it again, not being used to a human’s turn of phrase, John put his hand up to stop him. ‘To protect themselves from attack by a frightened society, they had taken complete, authoritarian control of the world. We had to take them to the Shadow Proclamation for their own protection. Fortunately, the embryos your women have will not have that problem.’

 

‘Hmm. In that case, I will call a meeting and put it to the people. I know some couples already want to keep their babies. For those women who don’t, we will offer your solution,’ the mayor said with a reassuring smile.

 

‘Thank you,’ Rose said. ‘I hope everything goes well.’

  
  


**Torchwood Special Operations Standby Room.**

 

**Torchwood Tower, Canary Wharf.**

 

**14:00.**

  
  


The TARDIS materialised on the designated landing pad within the black and yellow tape on the floor. The right hand door opened inwards, and Rose stepped out, with John following.

 

‘High guys. We’re back,’ Rose called out.

 

‘Been somewhere nice,’ Jake asked.

 

‘ Harkenbrokken,’ John told him. ‘Nice little place in the outer rim. And a lot nicer now they’re not going to commit genocide.’

 

‘Ah. One of the places like Dunwich,’ Gwen realised.

 

‘Yeah. We’re working our way down the list we got from the Shadow Proclamation,’ Rose told her.

 

‘What? In your lunchtime?’ Amy asked.

 

‘Yeah. We had lunch in this nice little bistro in the town. Lovely couple who ran it. They’re makin’ plans for when the baby arrives,’ Rose explained. ‘For the other women in the town, we set up a clinic in the TARDIS to extract the unwanted embryos and put them into incubators. I hope the rest go as easy as that one.’

 

Alice DiMaggio entered Special Operations and headed towards John and Rose. ‘Ah, you’re back John. Chrissie said you’d taken Rose out to lunch . . . I just wanted to ask you about those files from the Shadow Proclamation.’

 

‘Oh yes. What about them?’

 

‘Well it’s the numbers. Are they coordinates?’

 

‘Yes. Galactic coordinates. Why do you ask?’ John queried.

 

‘I just wondered if there was  a way of seeing them on a map of some kind. I’m just curious.’

 

‘There are star charts on the server. I uploaded them from the TARDIS for Astrophysics,’ John informed her. ‘If you pop up there, they’ll be only too happy to show you how to use them. You’d have thought all their Christmases had come together when I showed the charts to them.’

 

‘Thanks John. I’ll pop up there and have a look.’

 

‘Are you up to somethin’?’ Rose asked suspiciously.

 

Alice smiled. ‘It’s just a technique we used in profiling I want to try. If it works, I can write a paper on it . . . I’ll let you know if I’ve got anything.’

 

‘Okay. See ya later,’ Rose said. She gave John a peck on the lips before making her way to the office to take over from Chrissie, who had been covering her for lunch. [‘Oh, John. Why don’t I take the TARDIS home at the end of my shift, and I can start the dinner.’]

 

[‘Good idea, then I could pick up the kids in the car, and fetch Donna when I get home.’]

 

[‘Perfect. See ya later Love.’]

 

By 16:00, she’d produced the handover report and briefed the White Watch Supervisor. She was walking across the Standby Room towards the TARDIS, when she saw  André.

 

‘André? How’s Angel now?’ She asked him. She knew the procedure had gone well, as they’d had a chat when he’d come back to the Despatch Office before lunch.

 

‘Good thank you Rose. I’m just on my way to collect her from Day Case,’ he replied.

 

‘That’s great.’ she gave him a cheeky smile. ‘And how long before . . . y’know.’

 

André matched her smile. ‘Doctor Jones said to give it 24 hours to let the stents settle in and start releasing the substances.’

 

‘Well, good luck with everythin’.’

 

‘Thank you Rose . . . and John of course.’ 

 


	27. The “Mother Ship”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice comes up with some information, and John, Rose and Jack go to check it out.

**Chapter 27**

 

**The “Mother Ship”**

  
  
  


**The Smith’s Residence.**

 

**Northumberland Place.**

 

**Notting Hill, London.**

 

**07:15**

  
  


‘Morning Alice / Auntie Alice,’ the Smith’s called out as Alice walked into the kitchen.

 

‘Morning everyone. Good to see you back Donna. Did you have a good day off?’

 

[‘Ooh, it was lovely thanks. Lots of hunky mechanoids about, if you know what I mean,’] Donna-the-Robot said, tapping her prosthetic finger against her virtual nose and winking.

 

Alice laughed. ‘I hope you took some pictures.’

 

[‘I can upload all my visual inputs if ya like,’] Donna told her.

 

‘Actually, I wouldn’t mind seeing what a planet of robots looks like.’

 

‘We could take ya if y’like,’ Rose suggested.

 

‘Yes. I’d like that one day,’ Alice replied, and then looked at John. ‘John. I’ve got some good news for you.’

 

‘Hmm?’ John queried.

 

‘Those files from the Shadow Proclamation archive. I’ve managed to do some profiling on them and I think I might have a lead for you.’

 

‘Really? That’s brilliant Alice,’ John said.

 

‘Come and find me in my office and I’ll run through what I’ve found,’ Alice suggested.

 

‘No problem. I’ll check in with the Watch Supervisor first as I normally do, and then I’ll be up to see you,’ he said with a waggle of his eyebrows at Rose.

  
  


**Torchwood Special Operations Standby Room.**

 

**Torchwood Tower, Canary Wharf.**

 

**09:27.**

  
  


John entered the Standby Room to receive his usual mug of tea and kiss from the Watch Supervisor, whilst he checked to see if there was anything he needed to know about before he went to see Alice.

 

‘Anything come in overnight to pique my interest?’ he said as he drank his tea.

 

‘Nah. Your interest will have to remain un-piqued for now. There are a couple of teams out on shouts, so somethin’ might come in later.’

 

‘Okay Love. I’ll see you later.’ He finished his tea and gave her a peck on the cheek.

 

John made his way up to Psychology on the fourth floor and saw Alice at her desk through the glass-fronted office. She stood, moved from behind her desk and opened the door for him.

 

‘Right, what have you got for me then?’ he asked with a smile as he entered the office.

 

‘Opinions,’ she replied. ‘That’s what we offer in profiling, based on the evidence.’

 

‘Good enough for me.’

 

They sat on the sofa in her office as she called up her research on a tablet PC.

 

‘Okay. The first thing I did was look at the planets that had reported an attack, to see if I could categorize them. That’s when I found the first clue.’

 

‘Which was?’ John asked.

 

‘Except for the Earth, they are all level six technology civilisations,’ Alice told him. ‘Using the Shadow Proclamation classification of course.’

 

‘Of course,’ John agreed. ‘That makes sense.’

 

‘According to that classification, a planet has united into one faction normally as one species.’

 

John nodded. ‘A unified global government, where the populous have survived ecological disasters, pollution, and nuclear holocaust, that go hand in hand with level five. When you reach level five, you either make it to level six or get knocked back to level three or four.’

 

‘And a united planet would have on average, ordered, caring, and compassionate societies. The perfect societies for the best chance of survival for an obligate brood parasite,’ Alice reasoned. ‘But it doesn’t explain why they chose Earth. We’ll be lucky if we even get to level six.’

 

‘The Grange!’ John exclaimed, tugging at his hair. ‘Of course. What if someone was passing close by, looking for their next victims to impregnate, when they receive a subspace carrier wave.’

 

‘Subspace carrier wave?’ Alice queried.

 

‘A modulated gravity wave that crosses the universe.’

 

‘The artefact Professor Crimm was investigating,’ Alice realised.

 

‘Exactly. “Oh, hello. Only a level six society would have the technology to modulate a gravity wave. Let’s go and sow our seeds”,’ John said.

 

‘So we were a mistake.’

 

‘A big mistake for them, because now they’ve got a BIG problem,’ John told her.

 

‘And what’s that?’

 

‘Me! Because now, I’m on to them . . . What else have you got.’

 

‘Well, this is the really interesting part. I wondered if I could adapt the geographic profiling technique we use to zero in on serial offenders.’

 

‘Oh yeah?’ John asked with interest.

 

‘Yes. The  criminal investigative methodology analyzes the locations of a connected series of crimes to determine the most probable area of offender residence.  Now I presume we don’t have a residence for these guys, although I could be wrong.  But by incorporating both qualitative and quantitative methods, it assists in understanding spatial behaviour of an offender and focusses the investigation to a smaller area of the community. However, we don’t have a smaller area of a community.’

 

‘Ah. Not much help then.’

 

‘You think? What it has shown is a logical, almost artificially intelligent journey from star system to star system,’ Alice told him.

 

‘Oh, please tell me you can predict where they are going next,’ John said with an open-mouthed smile.

 

Alice grinned. ‘The boys up in Astrophysics were very helpful. They think the world of you.’ John gave her a look as if to say, “why wouldn’t they”. ‘They put in all the coordinates for me and indicated all the known level six planets. Now, using the dates that the reports were logged by the Shadow Proclamation, and the distance between the planets, we can calculate their speed. AND, if the Earth was an unexpected stop.’ She showed John the star chart on her tablet. ‘That puts their current location here, on their way to that system there.’

 

John looked at the display in open-mouthed wonder. ‘Oh you beauty.’ He grabbed Alice’s face and kissed her forehead.

 

[‘John? What’s up?’] Rose asked in his head. She’d felt his excitement.

 

[‘Alice has only gone and found our space cuckoos.’]

 

[‘Oh brilliant!’]

 

[‘Call the TARDIS to the Standby Room. I’m going to see Jack.’]

 

[‘Okay. See you in a bit.’]

 

‘Thanks, Alice. This is brilliant work. Sorry, I’ve got to run, I’ve got to go and see Jack.’

  
  


**The TARDIS Console Room.**

 

**21-13-11-0-1 by 0-5 from galactic zero centre.**

  
  


Jack Harkness had a big grin on his face as he looked at the monitor hanging over the console. ‘Oh this brings back memories.’

 

John looked up and matched his grin. ‘The old universe. The old team.’

 

‘The old clothes,’ Rose added.

 

‘Eh?’ John and Jack said together.

 

‘Brown pinstripe suit with a brown coat. RAF uniform with a grey coat.’

 

John and Jack looked down at what they were wearing, looked at each other, and looked at Rose. ‘What?’

 

Rose just laughed. ‘Y’know, I feel like I’m underdressed in this black, military twill. I need a long coat.’ She’d changed into her old Special Operations uniform.

 

Jack nodded with a raised eyebrow as he looked her up and down. ‘Hmm. It would set that outfit off nicely.’

 

‘Oi, Gok Wan. We need you to concentrate on that monitor. Remember?’ John told him.

 

‘Yes sir,’ Jack said. He grinned at Rose and winked.

 

‘Okay. Dematerialising into three-dimensional space,’ John announced, and the pitch of the Time Rotor changed.

 

Jack tapped at the keyboard. ‘Integrating the temporal shift recorded on the sonic screwdriver . . . Oh, it’s been ages since I did anything like this.’

 

‘Enjoyin’ yerself are ya?’ Rose said with a smile.

 

‘You bet, Gorgeous . . . Initiating scan for temporal flux . . . And . . . Bingo. Anomaly bearing twenty two-three-five-zero by one- seven-six.’

 

‘Hah-ha,’ John laughed. ‘Gotcha! They don’t stand a chance against the old team. Jack, can you send that to the navigational computer?’

 

‘Er, yeah. Sending it now. I’ve got to say Doc, this console is a lot more user-friendly than the old one,’ Jack said.

 

‘Yeah,’ Rose agreed. ‘The desktop reflects the personality of the owner when its first configured. When the old TARDIS reconfigured her desktop, he was damaged and broken after the Time War. This time though, he was focussed on rescuing me and EJ from those lizards. He was in control . . . and in love.’

 

‘And, I’ve got some of Donna Noble, the efficient secretary in my head as well,’ John added. ‘That’s why the console is so neat and organised,’ John said. ‘And now, if we do this . . . hold tight.’

 

He pulled down a lever, and the TARDIS swayed and shuddered, as it jumped a fraction of a second out of sync with the rest of the universe, causing the Time Rotor to judder. John and Rose joined Jack at the monitor to see what was there.

 

‘Oh John,’ Rose breathed. ‘It’s beautiful.’

 

On the monitor screen, they could see a vessel resembling a Portuguese Man o’ War jellyfish which was illuminated from within. The body of the ship was roughly cylindrical, with a rounded bow which tapered to the stern. A large, fan-like crest ran the length of the hull, with a number of cylinders and masts projecting from the underside.

 

Jack checked the magnification and scale. ‘That thing is HUGE . . . a thousand metres from end to end.’

 

‘Oh I have just GOT to have a look at this beauty,’ John said and set the controls to do a slow fly-by, before hurrying to the doors.

 

He pulled both doors open and saw something that looked like an upside down, artistically lit, oil refinery drifting past. Rose stood beside him and slipped her arm around his waist. He instinctively slipped his arm around her shoulders. Jack stood to the other side and crossed his arms.

 

‘That is one hell of a ship,’ Jack said as he watched it go by.

 

‘Yeah. And I suppose we’d better get ready to have a look inside,’ John replied, as he closed the doors and made his way up the ramp. ‘The TARDIS is generating a standing wave which will cancel any psionic radiation while we’re in here, but we’re going to need the helmets when we enter the ship. I’ll just nip to the workshop and knock one up for Jack.’

 

‘Okay. We’ll scan the ship and see if we can locate the bridge,’ Rose said as John went into the corridor.

 

‘Hmm,’ Jack said. ‘I’m not picking up any life signs. I wonder where the crew are?’

 

‘Have you checked the smokin’ pods?’ Rose asked, thinking back to another ship that had no crew.

 

‘Smoking pods?’ Jack queried.

 

‘Never mind . . . What’s this in the centre of the ship?’ she asked as she carried on scanning.

 

Jack looked at the readout. ‘Organic matter.’

 

‘It’s not body parts, is it? No, seriously, check the smokin’ pods.’

 

Jack laughed and carried on. ‘All communications and control interfaces seem to be focussed there,’ he said, pointing to an area at the front of the ship. ‘I think we’ve found the bridge.’

 

Around fifteen minutes later, John returned with the crash helmets, and a long, black leather coat.

 

‘Here. Try this on,’ John said with a lopsided smile as he threw the coat to his wife.

 

‘Ooh. I’ll look like Trinity from the Matrix,’ Rose said with her tongue between her teeth smile. She slipped the coat on and did a spin. The coat flared out and swished around her.

 

‘Now that suits you,’ Jack told her.

 

‘Thank you.’

 

John handed Jack a black helmet and Rose her pink one.

 

‘That completely ruins the look,’ Rose said with a laugh as she put the helmet on. ‘But I don’t think we’ll need ‘em. There’s no life signs on board.’

 

‘Have you checked the smoking pods?’ John asked.

 

‘What is it with you two and smoking pods?’ Jack asked them.

 

John gave him a lopsided smile. ‘Long story.’

 

‘Involvin’ a king’s mistress and a white horse,’ Rose added.

 

‘I can’t wait to hear that one,’ Jack said.

 

‘Oh you had to bring that up again,’ John protested jokingly.

 

‘I’m your wife. It’s my prerogative to remind you of your past misdemeanours,’ she teased.

 

‘The horse or the mistress?’ Jack asked.

 

‘The mistress!’ John and Rose said together.

 

‘She was an old flame,’ Rose said with her teasing smile.

 

‘She was not!’ John said, and then scratched the back of his neck. ‘Wellll, maybe a smouldering ember.’

 

Rose smacked his arm hard. ‘She did not smoulder. If anyone’s  smoulderin’, it’s me.’

 

‘Damp squib . . . I meant to say damp squib,’ John corrected himself hurriedly.

 

‘Can you two leave your domestic at home?’ Jack asked. ‘We’ve got a ship to investigate.’

 

‘See,’ John said. ‘What did I say about bringing domestic into the TARDIS?’

 

Rose pointed a finger at him and gave him a smile. ‘I’ll see you later, mister.’

 

John grinned and waggled his eyebrows. ‘Did you find the bridge or control centre?’

 

‘Yep. We think we’ve got it,’ Rose said and showed him on the screen.

 

‘Looks good to me. Let’s go . . . Allons-y!’

 

The TARDIS landed in an organic looking, toroidal chamber, similar to being inside a ring doughnut. The outer wall and windows curved outwards from the floor, up to the ceiling. The main window was about thirty feet across and showed a view ahead of the ship. The inner wall opposite curved inwards and was covered with screens and control consoles. The superstructure support struts were all organic looking. A circular corridor led into the interior of the ship from the inner wall.

 

The three of them stepped out of the TARDIS with their helmets on and looked around. 

 

‘This reminds me of your old TARDIS,’ Rose said, looking at the curved support struts.   
  


John nodded as he took his sonic screwdriver out of his jacket pocket. ‘Yeah. The ship was probably grown over a skeletal framework.’

 

‘I’d still like to know what happened to the crew,’ Jack said.

 

‘I’m not sure it ever had any crew,’ John said as he took out his sonic screwdriver. ‘Not an organic crew anyway.’

 

Jack frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

 

‘Oh yeah,’ Rose said, picking up his filtered thoughts. John had fine-tuned the settings after the problem with Zoriel.

 

‘Look around,’ John told Jack as he scanned the panels on the rear wall. ‘No flight couches. No seats, and all the control consoles on the walls.’

 

‘Like the Dalek’s ships,’ Jack suggested.

 

‘That’s the kind of crew I was thinking of, yeah . . . Oh, hello. Look what I’ve found,’ John said, as a three-dimensional control interface appeared, floating in front of them.

 

‘That is nice,’ Jack said. ‘Is there a ship’s log there somewhere?’

 

‘Hand on,’ John said as he swiped his fingers through the display. ‘This is similar to other interfaces I’ve seen before . . . Yes, there we are.’

 

Rose and Jack stood either side of him and started reading.

 

‘Hah. I knew it!’ John exclaimed. ‘Modulated gravity wave detected and course changed to locate the source.’

 

‘That was the Grange,’ Rose said.

 

‘Ah, that’s interesting,’ Jack said as he read further. ‘A platoon of medical droids load a scout ship with in-vitro embryos and descend to the planet’s surface.’

 

‘Does it say how they implant the embryos?’ Rose asked. ‘Because that young girl in the village was still a virgin. There was no evidence of penetration on any of the victims.’

 

‘I’ve got an idea about that,’ John said. ‘We’ll go and have a look at their equipment later, but first of all, if this ship is automated, then it must have operational protocols which it follows.’

 

‘You want to see what criteria they use to select planets?’ Jack realised.

 

‘Yep,’ John replied. ‘And there it is. Ah, all those antennae under the ship are scouring the galaxy for signals. An algorithm sifts through them looking for anything indicating level six technology and a stable society. That gravity wave must have got its attention, and it saw a level five world with a little pocket of level six in a quiet community.’

 

‘So it saw Dunwich as an oasis of a level six society in a desert of level five,’ Rose reasoned.

 

‘Yep. And it fitted all of the criteria. It was like a moth to a lightbulb . . . couldn’t resist its programming . . . I’ll just upload all this to the TARDIS . . . There we go. We can look at that later. Ah. And there’s the log of previous destinations. We’ll have that as well.’

 

‘Right. So let’s go find these embryos and medical droids then,’ Jack said, heading towards the entrance of a cylindrical, organic looking corridor.

 

‘Oh. The organic matter on the scan,’ Rose realised.

 

‘Embryos,’ John and Jack said together.

 

‘So this literally is a “mother ship”,’ Rose said with a grin. John and Jack rolled their eyes and groaned.

 

‘I can’t believe you just said that,’ Jack said with a smirk.

 

‘What are those markers moving towards us?’ Rose asked as she saw several red dots moving across the virtual floor plan.

 

‘Hmm. Not sure,’ John said, adjusting his sonic screwdriver and pointing it at the console on the wall.

 

The view floating in front of them changed to an image of a running droid. It had mechanical legs, which were configured like an ostrich’s. On top of those was a humanoid trunk, with an insect-like head. The arms had no hands, just holes where the wrist should have been.

 

‘See that, Jack?’ John asked. ‘No hands.’

 

‘Security droids,’ Jack replied. ‘You don’t need hands to carry weapons if the weapons are built into your arms.’ 

 

‘What kind of armaments are we lookin’ at?’ Rose asked, as she took out her Heckler & Koch MP5SF and checked it. She could feel her husband’s displeasure.

 

‘They’ll be here in seconds,’ John said urgently. ‘And that thing will be useless against them. They’ll have armour plating and shields, just like a Dalek.’ He grabbed Rose’s hand and gave her that excited grin. ‘RUN!’

 

He pulled her towards the TARDIS, with Jack close behind. As they ran, he adjusted the sonic screwdriver with his thumb and pointed it at the TARDIS, which was tantalisingly close, but not close enough. They heard the clatter of metal feet on the floor behind them as the security droids ran around the corner. John put the key in the lock, and Rose looked over her shoulder.

 

The droids were raising their arms and pointing them in their direction. Unlike the robots she’d seen in the Star Wars film Phantom Menace, who didn’t seem to be able to hit the side of a barn, these droids had state-of-the-art targeting computers, and what they aimed at, they hit. And right now, they were aiming at her, her husband, and her best friend. 

 

She saw the ends of the droid's arms flash with a brilliant, crimson light.


	28. Out Of Sync

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time travelling trio access the ship's logs and discover why it was created. The answers cause John to reminisce about his own childhood. A chance remark by Jake gives John an idea.

**Chapter 28**

 

**Out Of Sync**

  


A dome of bright crimson light shone around the TARDIS, as the extrapolator shields nullified the energy of the droids weapons.

 

‘Hah! You extended the extrapolator shields,’ Jack said, as he thought back to when they had rescued Rose from the Dalek ship in the old universe.

 

Rose slapped John’s arm. ‘A bit of warnin’ would’ve been nice. I only got your idea when I saw them fire.’

 

John kissed her quickly on the lips. ‘Sorry about that Love. I didn’t have time to say anything, I barely had time to set the sonic.’

 

The flashes of crimson light subsided, and they looked at the droids in front of them.

 

‘Oh look at you,’ John said in admiration. ‘You are gorgeous.’

 

‘Why is it, that when somethin’ tries to kill us, you think it’s beautiful?’ Rose asked him.

 

She turned to Jack. ‘In the old universe, there was this werewolf thing about to bite my face off. His lordship here goes all gooey-eyed over it, callin’ it beautiful . . . Then there were these clockwork robots on this deserted ship . . .’

 

‘Oh but come on, you’ve got to agree, they were a lovely bit of engineering,’ John said.

 

‘They were tryin’ to chop me an’ Mickey up for spare parts,’ she reminded him. ‘That was the one with the horse and the king’s mistress,’ she told Jack with her teasing smile.

 

‘You have GOT to tell me that story,’ Jack said. ‘But maybe another time. Right now we have to get past these guys . . . Any ideas Doc?’

 

‘Wellll, as I see it. If we leave the protection of the extrapolator shield, we’re toast. And . . . Well, that’s it actually.’

 

‘We could fly the TARDIS down to the embryo storage area,’ Rose suggested.

 

‘That would give us a couple of minutes before they ran down and started firing at us again,’ John said.

 

‘Hold on,’ Rose said with a frown, which turned into a grin. ‘Why don’t we play the progenitors at their own game?’

 

John picked up her idea and gave her an open-mouthed smile. ‘Oh Wife. You are a GENIUS!’

 

‘Er, guys. I don’t do telepathy, remember?’ Jack reminded them. ‘So I missed the memo. Any chance of letting me in on it?’

 

‘We can do better than that,’ John replied, opening the TARDIS door. ‘We can show you.’

 

They went inside, closing the door and leaving the artificial intelligence of a group of security droids, wondering what it should do next. Inside the TARDIS, they removed their crash helmets, and John and Rose worked the console.

 

‘The mother ship is one second out of sync with the rest of the universe, right?’ John explained to Jack.

 

‘Yeah, got that,’ Jack replied.

 

‘So what if we put the TARDIS two seconds out of sync with the universe, and one second out of sync with the mother ship?’ Rose asked.

 

‘Oh that is good,’ Jack said, giving her his perfect, white-toothed smile.

 

The TARDIS materialised in an area of the ship where the walls looked like the honeycombs inside a bee’s nest. There were rows and rows of small cells, approximately one foot in diameter, on dozens of levels. In the centre of the chamber, were several delta-winged craft, about the size of a Learjet. There were hundreds of medical droids working around the chamber, performing a variety of tasks. A few of them seemed to be loading metal canisters into one of the ships.

 

‘So these droids are completely unaware of our presence?’ Jack queried.

 

‘Yep. To them, we don’t exist in their time frame,’ John replied.

 

‘Does each of those cells contain an embryo?’ Rose asked as John closed the door.

 

They walked over to one wall and John took out his sonic screwdriver. ‘Yep. A fertilized embryo, held in stasis.’

 

Jack looked up, then around the massive, egg-shaped chamber. ‘There must be millions of them,’ he realised.

 

‘Hundreds of millions more like,’ John said. ‘An entire civilisation.’

 

‘I wonder what was so bad that they had to trust the survival of their civilisation to this ship?’ Jack asked.

 

‘Maybe there’ll be somethin’ in the computer that will tell us,’ Rose suggested.

 

‘Hmm. Might be,’ John said, and operated one of the wall mounted panels. ‘Oh. First of all, though, we’ve got to stop them doing a number on another unsuspecting planet.’

 

‘That must be why they’re loading that small ship,’ Jack said.

 

‘Right. So let’s see if I can find the control circuit for the hangar doors and disable them,’ said John. He scanned a number of panels as he hurried around the room.

 

He sonicked a door-sized panel, and it clicked open. ‘Ah, here we are. Control interfaces for the various systems in this chamber.’

 

The cupboard area behind the panel was full of pipes, cables, conduits, junction boxes, valves, knobs, levers and switch boxes. John used the sonic to find the switch box he was looking for. He lifted a switch guard and pushed a switch up.

 

‘There we are. That should stop them from opening the hangar doors and launching,’ he said with a smug grin.

 

Further down the honeycomb array, a panel slid up and a dustbin-sized maintenance droid rolled out. Rose couldn’t help but think that it resembled the R2 droids in the Star Wars films. They watched as it rolled past them and stopped at the access cupboard. Somehow, without any face or body language, it managed to exude an attitude of annoyance. Its domed head rose up on a telescopic pole, and a small panel flipped open. A multi-tooled appendage appeared, lifted the switch guard, and pushed the switch down. The tool retracted, the head descended, and the droid rolled back to its cupboard, still appearing to be annoyed at something.

 

Rose snorted a laugh at the expression on John’s face. ‘Well, that told you.’

 

‘Oh we could be doing this all day,’ John moaned. He took out his sonic again, lifted the switch guard, pushed up the switch and held the sonic against it. He shielded his face with his left hand and pressed the button on the sonic. There was a high pitched whistle, followed by a bang and a cascade of sparks.

 

Whilst John had been in a battle of wits with “Artoo Deetoo”, Jack had been accessing the mainframe computer. ‘Hey Doc. I think I’ve got something here.’

 

John and Rose went and stood beside him to look at the holographic display, as the maintenance droid came out of his cupboard and went back to flick the switch.

 

‘What have you found?’ John asked, putting on his brainy specs. ‘Ooh. An encrypted historical record.’ He used the sonic on the panel. ‘Let’s see if we can decrypt it.’

 

The holographic display wobbled and spluttered as John adjusted the sonic and tried to get past the encryption. Meanwhile, the sound of a dustbin blowing a raspberry came from the service cupboard when it realised that the whole switch assembly would need replacing.

 

‘Oh, you’ve got it, John,’ Rose said, as text started to appear in the air in front of them.

 

They started to read the history of the “Final Option”, the name of the mother ship. It told of a world of telepaths, living a peaceful life in a level six society when tragedy struck. The population became sterile. None of the scientists on the planet could find a cause or a cure for their infertility. They had not advanced their medical sciences as much as their engineering and were still learning how to map their DNA and modify their genome.

 

Rose could feel John’s emotions as he read the history of these unfortunate people.

 

‘You’re thinkin’ of Gallifrey, aren’t you?’ she asked him.

 

‘Yeah. There’s a lot of similarities with the fall of Pythia,’ he replied.

 

‘Pythia?’ Jack asked.

 

‘The matriarchs of Gallifrey before the age of Rassilon. They possessed psychic powers . . . just like this lot,’ he said, looking at the honeycombs. ‘They governed using mystery and superstition until Rassilon seized power and brought reason and science. The Pythia fled to Karn and established their sisterhood.’

 

‘The Sisterhood of Karn. I’ve heard of them,’ said Jack.

 

‘Witches, who keep the Eternal Flame burning,’ John said with a hint of bitterness.

 

‘I’m sensing you’re not a fan,’ Jack noted.

 

‘They saved my life once,’ he said, as though that was a bad thing. ‘Gave me a regeneration that I’m not proud of.’

 

‘Was that the one before I met you?’ Rose asked.

 

John nodded. ‘Gallifrey might still have existed if it wasn’t for them. They turned me into a soldier, in an attempt to end the Time War. They had the gift of precognition, and I think they could see how the war would end.’

 

Rose held his hand and intertwined their fingers. She had seen his memories of Gallifrey when he had shared them with her after the birth of their first son, Eyulf. She remembered the fall of the last Pythia and the curse she had put on Gallifrey, making them infertile.

 

‘These people didn’t have the technology to build looms like the Time Lords did,’ she realised.

 

‘No. So they fertilised as many eggs as they could in vitro and put them in this ship. A last chance for their species to survive, by relying on the charity of strangers.’

 

‘Ah. Only they hadn’t counted on their offspring misusing their powers due to the lack of parental guidance,’ Jack realised.

 

As a mother, Rose could see how that would be a problem. ‘Their parents had the same powers they did, shared the same mind. They could impart their wisdom on their children. Without that control, how could you even think about disciplinin’ them?’

 

‘And so this ship has been spreading these children through the galaxy like a plague,’ John said.

 

‘Can we stop them?’ Rose asked.

 

‘Oh yes. We can stop them . . . But then what?’ John asked; the weight of millions of lives on his shoulders once again. ‘There’s a whole civilisation here waiting to be born. If we deny them that chance, it’s as good as committing genocide.’

 

Rose got a glimpse of potential futures through John’s thoughts. All those lives waiting to be lived. People to love, to be loved. Adventures waiting to be had; places to be explored, discoveries to be made. How could they deny them?

 

‘Like they wanted to terminate the pregnancies in Dunwich,’ Jack commented. ‘Could we use the same solution for all these, but on a larger scale?’

 

‘That would be a hell of a project,’ John replied.

 

He went over to one of the individual cells and scanned it with his sonic screwdriver. Inside the transparent cell was a metal cylinder about six inches in diameter, and a foot long. It had a handle on the front to allow it to be pulled out, and a small panel with controls on it.

 

‘Mmm. I was right about how they impregnated the villagers,’ said John. ‘It has a teleport delivery system incorporated into the design. The embryo and placenta are teleported onto the wall of the uterus.’

 

‘That would make it easy to get them into the artificial wombs then,’ said Rose, optimistically.

 

‘Yeah. But we’d need to find someone who was willing to build hundreds of millions of them,’ John told her.

 

‘Oh yeah,’ Rose said thoughtfully. Her bubble of optimism having been popped.

 

‘Right. So we need a plan,’ Jack said with his hands on his hips. ‘First, we need to turn this ship around and park it somewhere while we sort out what we’re going to do.’

 

‘And stop the security droids from tryin’ to kill us while we do,’ Rose added.

 

John nodded. ‘Back to the bridge then, and I can access the computer. I should be able to disable the security droids while keeping all the other droids doing what they do to keep the ship operational . . . I’ll reprogram the navigational computer to set a course for the Shadow Proclamation. They can keep an eye on it for now.’

 

Rose snorted a laugh. ‘The Shadow Architect’s gonna love ya fer that.’

 

‘Nah. She’ll be fine about it,’ John said.

 

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

 

**Reception Chamber**

 

**The Shadow Proclamation**

 

‘You want to do what?’ the Shadow Architect asked, giving John a stern look.

 

‘It will only be for a short period while we sort out what to do with the passengers,’ John told her. ‘I mean, it’s a whole embryonic civilisation . . . Literally.’

 

‘You are testing my patience to the limit,’ the Architect said.

 

‘Tell me about it,’ Rose said to herself.

 

Jack gave the Architect his winning smile. ‘Madam Architect. As director of the Torchwood Institute, all I ask is for temporary asylum for these refugees, while Doctor Smith finds them a permanent home.’

 

‘Refugees?’ the Architect queried.

 

‘I realise that may be pushing the definition a little,’ Jack said. ‘But they have no parents, no home, and no one to look out for them.’

 

‘Doctor Smith will find a most unusual solution to their dilemma,’ Aeona said from behind them, and they all turned to look at her.

 

‘Really? And what would that be?’ John asked.

 

She gave him an enigmatic smile. ‘You tell me.’

 

‘Very well,’ the Architect said. ‘I will assign the Judoon to watch over the vessel whilst you work out this unusual solution.’

 

John smiled and bowed. ‘Thank you Madam Architect.’

 

Back in the TARDIS, John and Rose set the coordinates for Torchwood Tower, whilst Jack pushed buttons he was asked to push, twisted knobs he was asked to twist, and pulled levers he was asked to pull, and loving every minute of it.

 

‘So what’s this unusual solution you’ve come up with then?’ Jack asked.

 

‘Haven’t a clue,’ John replied.

 

‘He hasn’t come up with it yet,’ Rose explained. ‘Aeona has the gift of precognition.’

 

‘Don’t you just hate people who can see the future?’ John said.

 

‘Says a man who has a time machine,’ Jack said with a grin.

 

Rose snorted a laugh, and after thinking about what he’d said, John joined her. They all knew that John couldn’t go forward and look at the solution he would come up with because that would violate the law of cause and effect. If he nicked the idea off himself, then that would mean he never thought of the idea in the first place. And that would be very bad for the universe and reality in general.

 

The Time Rotor stopped grinding up and down, and they shut down the console, before walking down the ramp, opening the door, and stepping out into the Standby Room.

 

‘Hey. You’re back,’ “Welsh Pete” observed. ‘How’d it go? Did you find them?’

 

‘Yeah, we found them,’ Jack told the Watch. ‘It was an automated, robotic ship. John changed some of the programming, and we flew it to the Shadow Proclamation. They’ll keep an eye on it until we can work out what to do with it.’

 

‘So what was the ship like?’ André asked. ‘How did it operate?’

 

‘It was big,’ Rose told them. ‘Half a mile long, and lookin’ like one of those Portuguese Man o’ War jellyfishes. It was full of millions of embryos held in stasis, bein’ looked after by all these robots.’

 

‘Millions?’ Amy asked in awe.

 

‘Probably a hundred million,’ John said. ‘They had a number of landing craft which medical droids loaded with the embryos. Then they would fly down to the selected target community, and emit a psionic delta wave.’

 

‘What’s one of those?’ Julia asked.

 

‘Delta waves appear when you are in the deepest stage of sleep. If you force the brain into a delta wave state, it goes to sleep and won’t wake up until you switch the wave off,’ John explained.

 

‘So they kept the wave on for 36 hours,’ Other Craig realised.

 

‘And what happens to the embryos?’ Amy enquired; only too aware of her own embryo growing inside her.

 

‘That’s what we need the time for,’ John replied. ‘We need to work out how to gestate that many embryos to full term.’

 

‘That’s a hell of a lot of nappies,’ Jake said with a cheeky smile.

 

‘And where are you going to find thirty-three million foster parents?’ Gwen asked as she came at the problem from a mathematical viewpoint.

 

‘Eh?’ John and Rose said together.

 

‘Well. You’ve got a hundred million embryos. Assuming three babies per set of foster parents, that’s thirty-three million families,’ she told them.

 

John and Rose looked at each other, and then at Gwen. ‘We never thought of that.’

 

Jack had a smirk on his face. ‘We were so wrapped up in stopping the ship and saving the embryos, that we forgot that embryos grow into babies.’

 

‘Where in the name of Pythia are we going to find that many people, willing to foster that many alien babies?’ John asked himself.

 

‘What about the original parents of those embryos?’ Julia asked. ‘Where are they, and why didn’t they want them?’

 

‘Long dead,’ John replied. ‘And I think they did want them . . . desperately wanted them. But for some reason, they became sterile and couldn’t gestate their offspring. It seems they were skilled in the physical sciences and engineering, but not in the biological sciences. Brood parasitism seemed to be the only option left to them.’

 

‘So their race died out then,’ Welsh Pete said.

 

John nodded. ‘Yeah. Population numbers would fall as the elderly died, and then as the young grew old, society would collapse around them.’

 

‘Imagine being the last person alive on an entire planet,’ Julia said with a shiver.

 

‘Yeah,’ Jake nodded. ‘And somewhere, there’s an empty planet with all these towns and cities waiting for people to move in.’

 

‘Hang on,’ John said. ‘Run that by me again.’

 

‘What? The empty planet? Well, I was thinking, the last of the elderly and infirm would be looked after by those robots Rose mentioned. And then, when the last person had died, what would they do? They’d probably keep themselves busy repairing buildings and keeping them clean or something.’

 

John had a stunned look on his face. ‘Jake. You are brilliant . . . Oh, oh . . . And I’ve just found that unusual solution.’

 

He “pinged” the idea to Rose. ‘Oh you have got to be kiddin’ . . . Do you think they’ll go for it if it’s possible?’

 

‘Why don’t we go and ask them?.’ John said with a grin. He grabbed Rose’s hand and pulled her into the TARDIS.

 

Jack shook his head in resignation as the TARDIS faded away. ‘Duncan. Would you carry on as shift supervisor please?’

 

‘Yeah. No problem.’ Duncan Prescott, Andy McNab’s deputy, said as he chuckled to himself. The Doc was a law unto himself, with no respect for the chain of command, and he would never change.

 

Once again, within the space of an hour, the Reception Chamber of the Shadow Proclamation echoed to the grinding and wheezing of the TARDIS engines as it materialised into existence. The door opened inwards, and John rushed out.

 

‘Madam Architect. Forgive the unannounced arrival, but I think I have that unusual solution,’ he said hurriedly.

 

‘Oh, I have become accustomed to your unannounced arrivals,’ she said, dripping with sarcasm. Rose stifled a laugh as she stepped out.

 

‘Ah, right . . . On the plus side though, if I’m right, we get rid of that ship which is blocking the parking bay.’

 

‘Yes. That would be a plus,’ the Architect said with a rare, lopsided smile. She was becoming rather fond of this man and his enthusiasm for justice. ‘What do you require from us?’

 

‘I need to see the children so that I can run a simple DNA test on them. If my suspicions are confirmed, then I have a proposal for them.’


	29. New Hope For The Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it. John initiates his unusual solution and attempts to save a long-dead civilisation. Rose waits for a call from Donna, but Donna-The-House convinces her to call instead.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who stopped by to read this story, to everyone who left kudos, and everyone who took the time to leave comments.

**Chapter 29**

 

**New Hope For The Future**

  
  
  


‘So, how have you been spending your time here at the Shadow Proclamation?’ Rose asked Zoriel, as John scanned his DNA in the TARDIS Medi-bay.

 

‘We have lessons for part of the day, and then we have free time to play and watch programs on the video screens,’ Zoriel replied.

 

‘Sounds like a normal childhood to me,’ John said with a smile. He looked at the results of the DNA scan. ‘Ah ha! Just as I thought. That’s all the scans done now, and all of your brothers and sisters are actually your cousins.’

 

‘So they’re not actually related?’ Rose asked.

 

‘Only by species. It was like my second childhood on Gallifrey. We were all loom cousins,’ John told her.

 

‘So they could form relationships with each other,’ Rose realised.

 

‘If they wanted to,’ John agreed.

 

‘We could have families?’ Zoriel asked. ‘Like you and Rose?’

 

‘That’s right. And when you feel ready, there are fifty-two babies waiting to be adopted,’ John said. Two of the pregnancies in Dunwich had been naturally conceived, and two women had decided to keep theirs, which brought the total number of alien babies to fifty-two.

 

‘But we won’t be able to look after children for years,’ Zoriel protested. ‘We are just children ourselves.’

 

John waggled his eyebrows at Rose. ‘You leave that to us . . . As Baldrick would say, “I have a cunning plan”.’

 

‘Ah. Blackadder,’ Zoriel said with a smile. ‘We have watched that.’

 

‘This is more like an unusual solution,’ said Rose.

 

‘Well, we’re done here. Off you go. We’ll see you later,’ John said. ‘I have to go and have a chat with the Shadow Architect.’

 

Zoriel went to find his cousins, whilst John and Rose went to the Reception Chamber.

 

‘Madam Architect. Any progress on repatriating the children to their homeworld?’ John asked her. He had used Alice’s profiling technique on the Mother Ship’s log and traced the ship back to its point of origin.

 

‘Ah, John. Yes, there are a number of agencies who are willing to assist us in fostering the children as they grow up. How are you progressing with their tutor?’ the Shadow Architect replied.

 

‘What, Badger? He’ll be ready to teach by the time we’ve got everything in place,’ he told her.

 

John had explained to the Shadow Architect about his childhood on Gallifrey, and how the children were tutored by robotic mentors called avatroids. His own tutor had been given to him by Ordinal-General Quences, and was a bear-sized badger with crystal eyes, and horns that curled from either flank of its head, big enough to hang a coat from. It had serrated black stripes on a creamy pelt, which covered its mechanical body. With the exception of cousin Innocet, the Doctor had preferred the company of his tutor over that of his cousins. 

 

‘I still don’t see how an avatroid in the form of a tusked badger will help them learn any more effectively than a humanoid avatroid,’ the Architect said.

 

‘Wellll, it probably won’t,’ John confessed as he scratched the back of his neck. ‘But it will be more fun for them . . . And a bit of nostalgia never hurts.’

 

‘Badger was John’s teacher on Gallifrey when he was a child,’ Rose explained. ‘And he turned out all right, didn’t he?’

 

‘Hmmm,’ the Architect said, noncommittally, causing Rose to snort a laugh.

 

John gave his wife an indignant look. ‘What?’ She shook her head, unable to speak due to a fit of the giggles.

 

John rolled his eyes and looked back at the Shadow Architect, who had a wry smile on her lips. ‘I think I am uniquely placed to help the children, having had a similar experience. The children have a lot of similarities with the children of Gallifrey. They have no parents, due to infertility. They are cousins, not siblings. And they need a multidisciplinary mentor with encyclopedic knowledge, who is versed in both the arts and sciences.’

 

‘And what of the unborn children on the ship?’ the Architect asked.

 

‘Ah. That; is my most unusual solution,’ John said with an enigmatic smile.

  
  


**A planet called “New Hope”.**

 

**13 years after the Dunwich incident.**

  
  


The TARDIS materialised in a leafy, sunlit square, in the middle of a futuristic city of glass and metal skyscrapers, spires and high-level walkways. The right-hand door opened inwards, watched by sixty-two, silver-haired, golden-eyed, men and women.

 

‘John. Rose. It’s good to see you again,’ the twenty-five-year-old Zoriel said, shaking hands with them. ‘And not a day older by the look of you.’

 

Rose laughed. ‘Well. Actually, we are just one day older from when we last saw you.’

 

Zoriel laughed and shook his head. ‘Incredible. You really are a tough act to follow.’

 

‘Hey. Don’t follow us, you have your own path to follow. And it looks like you’ve taken those first steps,’ John said, looking at the young woman Zoriel had his arm around.

 

‘Oh. Of course, you remember Maltar?’

 

‘How could I forget,’ John said with a cheeky smile. ‘It was only yesterday.’ He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Hello, Maltar.’

 

‘Hello, John. Rose,’ Maltar said with a warm smile.

 

Rose held her arms out for her, and she accepted the embrace. ‘Good to see you Maltar.’

 

‘How’s the Senate, Mister President?’ John asked him, looking past his shoulder at the assembled group.

 

‘As you know, we are all of one mind, John. It makes the title of president a little redundant. But we are all fine, and eagerly await the arrival of the next generation,’ Zoriel replied.

 

‘So the pact you made as twelve-year-old children still stands?’ John asked, just to make sure they knew what they were taking on.

 

‘As I said, we are of one mind. Not only do we know our responsibilities to our descendants, but we also want children to love and nurture, as our foster parents have loved and nurtured us.

 

‘Well, we’d best not keep them waiting any longer then, had we?’ John said, and he and Rose went back to the TARDIS where child care assistants from Torchwood were looking after the incubated babies. They brought out two blanket-wrapped bundles in their arms.

 

‘Are those our children?’ Maltar asked with a look of delight.

 

‘They are indeed,’ John said with a smile. ‘We picked them out of the cots at random, so we don’t know if you’ve got boys or girls.’

 

Zoriel and Maltar accepted the babies from them and looked lovingly at them. ‘We don’t care,’ Maltar said. ‘They are ours. That’s all that matters.’

 

‘Quite right too,’ John said. ‘Oh, and you’ll need these if you want them to feed naturally.’ He handed Maltar a box of tablets.

 

‘What are they?’ she asked him.

 

‘Your version of prolactin. They’ll stimulate milk production,’ John explained.

 

‘Oh, that is wonderful. Thank you.’

 

‘We’ll bring them out in twos,’ Rose called out to the crowd. ‘So if you want to come forward . . .’

 

For the next thirty minutes, John and Rose handed over the fifty-two Dunwich babies, and ten babies taken from one of the earlier cases they’d visited in their lunch hour. Once the last couple had received their fraternal twins, and their tablets, the crowd started to disperse to take their babies home.

 

‘We should get our babies home also, Zoriel,’ Maltar said.

 

‘Yes, of course.’ He turned to John and Rose. ‘Would you allow us to show you some New Hope hospitality in our home?’

 

Rose linked her arm through John’s. ‘We would be delighted. Thank you.’

 

They walked the short distance down the street to their apartment building. There were plenty of empty apartments in the city, and the young residents had chosen to live in the same one which was close to city hall.

 

‘This is a lovely apartment,’ Rose said as Maltar cuddled her babies, and Zoriel made the beverages.

 

‘Thank you,’ Maltar replied. ‘We like it.’

 

‘And where are your foster parents?’ John asked. ‘Are they still around?’

 

‘Yes,’ Zoriel called from the kitchen. ‘When we reached sixteen, we told them that they didn’t need to stay if they didn’t want to. We have droids which see to the needs of our small society. But they love us, and we love them, and they stayed.’

 

‘They live in the suburbs,’ Maltar told them. ‘They are coming over for dinner. I think they are eager to see their grandchildren.’

 

‘Some of the foster parents had other commitments and were unable to stay. But they return regularly and stay for vacations,’ Zoriel explained as he brought in the tray of drinks. ‘And what of the future, John?’

 

‘Ah, yes. Well, as you know, we are visiting all the worlds that the mother ship visited and applying the nanogenes to the implanted embryos. We are then removing any that the women do not want to carry,’ John recapped.

 

‘Ah yes. That was mentioned when we made the pact,’ Maltar said.

 

‘Now, we will return at regular intervals in your future and offer more babies for adoption,’ John continued.

 

‘Are you still okay with that?’ Rose asked. For her and John it would only be minutes, as they had more rescued babies in the TARDIS.

 

Zoriel smiled. ‘We are more than okay with that. Having a shared mind, we help each other. Also, we have nanny droid which can help us with the childcare.’

 

‘Okay then. We’ve also installed incubators on the Final Option, and programmed the medical droids to use them,’ John told them, ‘The incubators have the nanogenes installed inside them, so the resulting babies will be harmless.’

 

‘Yeah. Once you’ve got all the babies from the other planets, every year, the droids will fly one of the ships down and present more babies for adoption,’ Rose explained, as she accepted a cup.

 

‘So the planet will slowly be populated a generation at a time,’ Zoriel said, handing a drink to John.

 

John nodded. ‘That’s right. You will have to decide how many babies you can handle at a time and alter the programming accordingly . . . Oh. And there’s one more little surprise for you.’

 

‘A surprise?’ Maltar asked.

 

‘Yeah,’ Rose said excitedly. ‘Our geneticists at Torchwood found the fault in your genome which was preventing you from becoming pregnant. John has programmed the nanogenes to repair the DNA of all the embryos.’

 

‘So our children will be able to have children,’ Maltar asked.

 

John gave them a big grin. ‘Yep! A hundred million cousins, all able to have their own families. And in twenty years time, there will be another generation of adults able to adopt. A year later, another, and so on. The ship will empty at an exponential rate.’

 

‘And we can fulfil our moral obligation,’ Zoriel told him.

 

‘Ah, social ethics. Badger has taught you well,’ John said. ‘How is my old friend?’

 

‘Still teaching,’ Zoriel said as he sat with his partner and took one of the babies. ‘He’s teaching at the university now. I’m studying astrophysics under him.’

 

‘We have a daughter,’ Maltar announced, as she unfastened the nappy. It was still dry, so she fastened it up again.

 

‘Oh, congratulations,’ Rose said, beaming a smile.

 

‘And the other one?’ John asked.

 

Zoriel unfastened the nappy and pulled a face. ‘Oof. It’s a boy. And he’s filled his nappy. You’ll have to excuse me while I change him.’

 

Rose held her arms out. ‘Can I give you a hand? I’ll hold him while you get the stuff together.’

 

Zoriel smiled. ‘Thank you, Rose. I’ll get the changing mat and the box.’

 

So Zoriel and Rose got down on the floor on their hands and knees, and Rose gave a quick tutorial on how to change a nappy. Zoriel politely accepted her tutorage with good humour, because their foster parents and Badger had already given them lessons on the practicalities of childcare.

 

‘Right. We’ll be off then,’ John said as they finished their drinks. ‘We’ll see you in a couple of minutes . . .’

 

‘And you’ll see us in a coupla years,’ Rose finished.

 

Back in the TARDIS, they set the temporal coordinates for two years time and started the Time Rotor.

 

‘You lot alright?’ John asked the childcare assistants, with a cheeky smile.

 

‘Er, yes. We think so, only this place is a bit freaky when you first come in here,’ one of the young women said. ‘But I think we’re getting used to it.’

 

‘Good. Just a few more deliveries, and then we’ll head for home,’ he said as he shut down the Time Rotor.

 

‘So where are we now?’ another assistant asked.

 

‘Oh, same place,’ John said as though it should have been obvious. ‘Just a different time.’

 

Rose laughed at the “dribbled down her white uniform” expression and rubbed her arm. ‘Try not to think about it and you’ll be fine.’

 

Hand in hand, John and Rose went down the ramp to the doors and opened them inwards. The scene that greeted them made them laugh with delight. Not only were there sixty-two adults waiting for them as before, but there were sixty-two toddlers either running around, asleep in pushchairs or playing on the fairground amusements which had been assembled in the square. There was a carnival atmosphere, with the shouts, squeals of delight, and peals of children’s laughter.

 

‘Hah! Look at you lot,’ John said with a beaming smile.

 

‘John. Rose,’ Zoriel called to them. ‘Good to see you again. Isn’t it great to hear the laughter of children in a place that was once silent?’

 

‘Oh yes!’ he agreed. ‘That and the TARDIS . . . Best sounds in the universe.’

  
  


**The Smith’s Residence.**

 

**Northumberland Place.**

 

**Notting Hill, London.**

  
  


‘You alright Love?’ John asked as he saw Rose look at her phone. They were sitting on the sofa, watching TV, and Rose had her legs resting on John’s lap.

 

‘Yeah. I was just wonderin’ if Donna was ever gonna phone to arrange that dinner date at theirs.’

 

[‘She’s probably too embarrassed,’] Donna-the-House said.

 

‘But I told her that was all a big misunderstanding and that we’d forgotten it,’ Rose explained.

 

[‘Yeah. But she’s still embarrassed about it. If I were you, I’d phone her,’] Donna suggested.

 

‘I can’t invite ourselves to dinner. That would be . . . presumptuous and rude,’ Rose told her haughtily.

 

[‘Well, if you can’t do that, then you need to take some advice from the poet, James Joyce. He said if you really want to get to know someone, you need to get drunk with them.’]

 

‘Really?’ Rose asked.

 

[‘No. I just made it up.’] John snorted a laugh. [‘But it’s good advice . . . You should invite her to your girls night in tomorrow,’] Donna advised.

 

‘Oh Donna. That’s brilliant.’

 

[‘Of course it is. Whatcha expect?’]

 

Rose selected Donna’s number and pressed dial. She heard the burring sound as it called Donna’s phone.

 

[‘Hello. Is that you Rose?’]

 

‘Hi, Donna. Yeah, it’s me. Look, I was just wonderin’ if you’d like to meet the girls from the Watch tomorrow night? We have this regular girls night in over at Gwen’s.’

 

[‘Wha’? And you want me to come?’]

 

‘Yeah. They all know about you and would love to meet you.’

 

[‘Well, I don’t know.’]

 

‘Oh please say you’ll come. It’s a really good laugh, and we all get a bit tipsy.’

 

[‘Drunk yer mean,’] Donna-the-House chipped in, which made John snort another laugh.

 

[‘If you’re sure . . .’]

 

‘I’m sure. Just bring a bottle and a DVD. I’ll pick you up at seven.’

 

[‘When you say “pick me up”, do you mean that mad box kinda pick me up?’]

 

Rose laughed. ‘Yeah. Is that okay?’

 

She could literally see Donna grinning over the phone. [‘Yer on. See yer at seven.’]

 

**Craven Hill Gardens.**

 

**Outside Gwen O’Toole’s Apartment Building.**

 

**Bayswater, London.**

  
  


Vrwoorp . . . Vrwoorp . . . Vrwiirp . . . Vrwiirp . . .

 

The TARDIS materialised in the small park opposite Gwen’s apartment in Craven Hill Gardens. On one side of the park, was a block of modern brown brick and concrete apartments, and on the other, where the TARDIS was facing, was a row of white, Edwardian townhouses. Gwen’s apartment was on the top floor of this beautiful Edwardian building. Rose and Donna stepped out of the TARDIS, and Donna looked around the dimly lit park.

 

‘Ooh. This is nice,’ Donna said.

 

‘Yeah. It’s lovely havin’ this park in front of her apartment,’ Rose replied.

 

‘An’ useful for parkin’,’ Donna said with a cheeky grin.

 

Rose laughed. ‘Yer right there. C’mon, it’s this way.’

 

Rose closed the TARDIS door and led the way along the little path to an arched gateway which opened onto the road. They trotted across the road to the pavement opposite, where there were black railings to contrast the white building. The entrance to the apartments was an arched door which was framed by two Doric columns and topped with a balcony containing a potted tree.

 

They let themselves in and made their way up the stairs to Gwen’s apartment, which was along the hallway and around the corner.

 

“Ding-dong”. Rose pressed the doorbell, and they waited for the door to open. Donna looked nervously around the tastefully decorated hallway. The door opened, and the attractive, redheaded Gwen O’Toole stood in the doorway in a baggy T-shirt, denim jeans and bare feet.

 

‘Hi, Gwen. We’re here,’ Rose said with a “ta-da” of her arms. ‘This is my friend Donna I told you about.’

 

‘Oh yeah. And a redhead, great. Hi Donna, come in and make yourself at home. Us redheads have got to stick together, eh Donna?’ Gwen said, ushering them both inside.

 

‘Oh-my-god. It’s Numbers O’Toole from the show,’ Donna whispered to Rose, as they walked down the short hallway.

 

Rose beamed a smile at her. ‘Yeah. I know . . . Hi everyone. This is Donna,’ Rose called out as they walked into the living room.

 

‘Oh, hi Donna.’ ‘Hello.’ ‘Ah, at last, we get to meet you,’ the girls said in greeting.

 

‘Oh-my-God . . . You’re “Van”,’ Donna said to Julia. ‘And “Legs”. I love the way you keep “Other Craig” in his place by the way.’

 

‘Hello, Donna. We met at Dunwich. I’m Alice,’ Alice said, giving her a hug.

 

‘Oh yeah. You’re the psychologist,’ Donna replied. ‘And you’re Chrissie, right?’

 

‘That’s right. Technical Support Specialist,’ Chrissie Anderson told her.

 

‘And you’re Jake’s other ‘alf, aren’t ya?’ she asked Sarah.

 

‘That’s right. Sarah. Nice to meet you, Donna.’

 

‘And Angel,’ Donna said, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

 

‘That’s correct. Pleased to meet you, Donna,’ Angel said, giving her a hug.

 

‘I don’t believe this. I’m gettin’ a hug off a real, live, alien. Oh, no offence,’ Donna said.

 

Angel gave a bubbly laugh. ‘None taken. I am an alien.’

 

‘Yeah. I can see yer ears,’ Donna said with a little laugh. ‘But what about the . . . y’know.’ She made a small flapping motion with her hands.

 

‘Oh, these,’ Angel said, as she looked over both shoulders to make sure she wasn’t going to knock anything over, before giving a flap of her wings.

 

Donna put her hands to her mouth and squealed a laugh. ‘They’re real. They’re really real. My husband thought they were CGI for the show.’

 

Everyone laughed at that comment, and they started sorting out the drinks and snacks. Donna noticed that Amy had selected a Vitex soft drink. Rose saw her questioning look.

 

‘Oh yeah. It won’t be aired for a couple of months,’ Rose said. ‘Amy’s pregnant.’

 

Donna’s mouth fell open. ‘No way . . . Oh, congratulations.’

 

‘Thank you,’ Amy replied.

 

‘It is congratulations, innit?’ Donna asked hesitantly. ‘It’s not one of them alien babies, is it? Cos Jack Harkness said you’d fallen asleep inside Dunwich.’

 

Amy gave a little laugh. ‘No. I had a full check up in the Torchwood Hospital. It’s mine and Rory’s.’

 

‘Brilliant!’ Donna said with a beaming smile.

 

‘Er, I’ll have a Vitex as well,’ Angel said from behind them.

 

The room fell silent, and everyone turned to look at her. She had an impish smile on her face.

 

‘Angel! You’re not?’ Alice asked in wonder.

 

Angel nodded. ‘We did the test when I came off shift this afternoon. I’m pregnant.’

 

There were squeals of delight, laughter, and tears of joy for their friend.

 

‘Oh did I pick a good time to invite you,’ Rose told Donna. ‘This is gonna be one hell of a night.’

 

Donna looked at her with an excited sparkle in her eyes. ‘An’ can I just say . . . bein’ here tonight; an’ you an’ John wantin’ to be my friend just cos I look like someone you knew . . . It’s brilliant.’

 

‘But it’s not just that you look like her Donna,’ Rose started to explain. ‘Oh, how can I explain it? I wish I could show you what you were like.’

 

Amy had overheard the conversation and put her hands up in the Vulcan salute she’d seen Mister Spock do. ‘Why don’t you do that mind meld thing you do with John?’

 

‘What?’ Rose said with a frown, and then thought about it. ‘But me an’ John are telepathic. I don’t think it works on non-telepaths.’

 

[‘Course it does,’] John said in her head. He’d picked up the doubt in her mind. [‘I did it with Reinette, remember? You just have to be careful.’]

 

[‘But I’ve never done anythin’ like that before,’] Rose reminded him.

 

[‘You do it all the time with the kids without even realising it. And I’ll be here to help you. And it will finally explain to Donna why we think she’s so special.’]

 

[‘Okay. If you think it’ll work, I’ll give it a go.’] Rose faced Donna. ‘Donna. Would you like me to show you the “other you” that we know and love?’

 

‘Y’mean you’ve got a video of her an’ you didn’t show it to me?’ Donna asked, thinking that all the problems could have been avoided if they’d shown it to her first.

 

‘Er, well. It’s a sort of video, but you have to see it in yer head,’ Rose explained, chewing her bottom lip.

 

‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Donna said with a lopsided smile. ‘I mean, you’ve got a box with a house stuffed inside it . . . Go on then, I might as well go the full hog . . . It is safe, yeah?’

 

Everyone in the flat was now taking an interest in the conversation. ‘John and Rose do it all the time,’ Julia told her.

 

‘What do I do?’ Donna asked.

 

‘Have a seat and relax,’ Rose said and sat with her on the sofa. She put two fingers on each temple and reached out with her mind, just as she did with John and the children. ‘Now. You should be able to sense that I’m there; as though I’m standing outside the door, waiting to be let in.’

 

Donna’s mouth fell open. ‘Oh-my-God. It’s you!’

 

Rose laughed. ‘Yep. That’s me. Now, if you open the door, I’m not goin’ to come in, I’m going to ask you to look through the door.’

 

‘Hah! I can see a big cinema screen,’ Donna said with a laugh.

 

[‘Okay. Here comes the main feature,’] John said in their heads.

 

‘John? Was that you?’ Donna asked out loud.

 

She felt him roll his eyes. [‘Who else is it going to be. Now I hope you’ve got your Vitex and your popcorn, cos here it comes.’]

 

John and Rose started to show her all their memories of Donna Noble, saviour of the multiverse.

 

‘Aaagh! I hate spiders!’ Donna exclaimed as she saw the Racnoss Queen. 

 

[‘It’s alright Donna. Relax. It’s just a memory. It’s not real,’] John reassured her.

 

‘Why am I wavin’ at floatin’ fat?’ Donna asked with a frown.

 

‘Yeugh!’ Amy exclaimed as she imagined where you would normally see floating fat.

 

Donna Templeton saw all of Donna Noble’s travels with the Doctor; felt all the emotions of joy, sadness and terror. Met all the aliens Donna Noble had met. She could feel Donna Noble in her head, and it was the same person as herself. It was as if she had experienced all of the adventures herself.

 

[‘That should do it,’] John said gently, and Rose took away her fingers.

 

‘You okay?’ Rose asked, looking into Donna’s eyes with concern.

 

Donna seemed to suddenly realise where she was and who she was with. ‘It’s you . . . Rose . . . You jumped across so many universes to get back to him because you couldn’t live without him.’

 

‘Yeah. That’s me,’ Rose said with a big grin.

 

‘Oh come ‘ere,’ Donna said and pulled Rose into a long hug. She eventually released her from the hug and held her shoulders. ‘And John . . . It’s like he’s my brother.’ 

 

She looked up at the members of Blue Watch with a new appreciation. Her insecurities had been banished, and she knew she was as good as them. She was still excited to be there with them, they were celebrities after all. But she was no longer in awe of them; they were equals.

 

‘Come on you lot. Whatcha standin’ around for. Let’s get this party started.’

  
  


**The End**


End file.
